Too Proud To Cry
by WiltingDaisies94
Summary: Two years have passed since the death of the Avatar and the destruction of his allies. Still trapped as a slave in Fire Lord Zuko's palace, Katara devises a unique way to punish her tormentor: she never speaks. And Zuko just can't stand that defiance. Very AU, Z/K is main focus for beginning, story expands in later chapters to reveal overall plot.
1. Chapter 1

WiltingDaisies94: Welcome everyone to my first Avatar: The Last Airbender tale. This one has gone through a few revisions, but it should be in excellent shape now.

Like most Zutarians, I was extremely displeased with the season finale and all that Kataang nonsense the writers hid behind. But, sadly, this story is not about fixing the misguided pairings of the Avatar universe. Although I think Zuko and Katara would make a great couple, they also have excellent chemistry as enemies, which is what I'm working with in this story.

Warnings: Alternate universe, occasional profanity, some sexual references/situations. This story will be on the darker side. If you want fluff or romance, you are looking in the wrong fanfiction.

Setting: It's been two years since the Great War of the Avatar, and Katara is trapped in Fire Lord Zuko's palace, as his personal war-slave.

**Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender or any of its lovely, lively characters.**

* * *

Chapter 1

_Too proud to cry._

They had killed Sokka.

It was the first thing she'd learned after her capture. Her brother, her companion, her friend; he was dead.

Toph disappeared, a captive like her, to an undisclosed location.

And Aang, the only hope, the only prayer... Aang was gone.

Meanwhile, they sent her to him.

_Too proud to cry._

He most certainly was a prince. It radiated off him, seeping into his walk, his speech, his manner of dress – arrogance was bred into him, as natural as breathing. Royalty and cruelty mixed together and settled over his body like a second skin.

But it was power that mattered most, power that was key. Lords and Ladies, benders and masters, those were the lucky few to whom he lent his ear.

Just as dangerous to have for allies than to keep as friends, but a necessity nonetheless. He took only a slight, twisted pleasure in meeting with the other top players of the world – he liked to play, but it was always a game of wariness and politics. Even he had only so much delight in diplomacy.

What he truly enjoyed was torturing her.

_Too proud to cry._

It's been two years of night and day, a merry-go-round of the painful and harsh. He's had the chance to say everything and anything, all the nasty, cruel barbs that have occurred to him since they first met.

He rages, he blames, he taunts and torments, and it cuts away at her heart just the way his knives and whips break open her skin.

Every look, every sneer, every snide remark scratches at her, and makes her that much older, that much colder, that much more resistant.

There is no way out for her. All she can do is live through his anger, without hope of reprieve.

At least, so he would like her to think.

_Too proud to cry._

One might question why he still keeps her around. After all, the same taunts bore him after a time; why should he be bothered to hold onto her when a few pointed stabs would suffice in finishing her?

He knows why, though he'd be hard-pressed to share. It's an embarrassing problem.

The little water-bitch won't break.

She is certainly too weak to escape from his palace, and she has nowhere to turn in the event she could escape.

But she is not broken. Not in the way he wants her to be.

She's damaged, yes. Hurt and tortured – but not broken.

He wants to be able to look into her face and see the haunted eyes of the damned, the gaze of a suffering, destroyed spirit.

But all he ever sees is sadness, an accusatory sorrow as deep and chilling as her beloved sea.

He wants to hear her beg for mercy, plead for help. He waits and waits, but she refrains.

She takes her beatings and punishments without a word, without a sound, without so much as a gasp of pain or indignation.

_Too proud to cry._

The one thing he wants above all is to see a tear slip down her cheek. Watch as she desperately tries to hold it in, but the strain is too great, and it falls. He wants to see it fall down, down, down, roll across her cheek and down her neck, until it disappears from sight.

And then, only then, will she be completely under his power. Broken.

She knows it.

He knows it.

And they both try their very hardest to hold their own - her attempts to restrain her feelings, his intention to make them burst like a dam.

So he will wait for it, day and night, until it comes, that tiny, almost nonexistent trickle.

But until then, neither can do anything but wait. For he knows and she knows -

_She is too proud to cry._

* * *

WD94: And off we go.


	2. Chapter 2

WiltingDaisies94: Here's the rewrite of Chapter 2. It's much longer, and I've matched the characters' personalities a bit more to the later chapters. Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 2

I see them sometimes, at night, when the darkness is thickest and I feel the safest. I imagine Mother and Father, back in the Southern Water Tribes, when we were all alive and together. I visualize Aang, riding around on Appa, with Momo perched happily on his shoulder, laughing into the wind. I picture Sokka and Toph arguing about something completely unimportant, and Toph looking about ready to earthbend my brother's ass back to the South Pole.

Sometimes I watch the four of us together, traveling or resting around the campfire. I remember nice moments – excerpts from my childhood with Sokka, getting dressed up with Toph back in Ba Sing Se, dancing with Aang – the sorts of memories that the miserable cling to.

But when morning comes and the first rays of sunlight peek into the Fire Lord's chambers, that hope begins to escape and I despair of holding on. When morning comes I cannot listen to the past any longer, and I am forced to face my current predicament.

I am a slave to the Fire Lord.

He is the ruler of the most powerful of the four nations, and considers himself my master. He understands the value of pain, and inflicts it on me whenever he sees fit. Rebuking me is oddly fascinating for him, and although I warrant fewer beatings than I did when I was first captured, he still can't resist an occasional punishment.

But now it isn't about hurting and weakening me – it is about beating me into submission. Every day is an opportunity to break me. It's become a battle of wills, and my silence is the key to victory. So long as I remain quiet, he cannot cow my spirit nor have my obedience.

I chuckle half-heartedly at the foolishness of our little game, and yet it's all I have. I remain in his chambers, shackled or free to roam, and sometimes the quiet is so deafening I think I shall scream. But I dare not speak even when I am alone, for fear he should hear me and know.

"Leave me." The doors have opened and the guards are filing out. I hear the door slam and close my eyes. It's early evening, and round two of today's sport will begin shortly.

"Slave!" he calls, walking through the front hall and into his bedchamber. That's one of his quirks, a preferred method of degradation. He never calls me by my name. Never. "Slave!"

I don't look up. I do open my eyes and take a breath, but I don't move.

"SLAVE!" He can't possibly be yelling louder, so I finally raise my head and deign to look at him. I see the riches, the splendor of his clothes and jewels. He stands at six feet, lithe and muscular, although his frame is hidden beneath the traditional red robes of the Fire Lord. The golden flame headpiece is pinned in his hair, coming alive in the candlelight.

I see it all, and I desire none of it. My life traveling with Aang, Sokka, and Toph, was enough for me. Simplicity was all I ever required from the world. How could I ever attach myself to riches at such a price?

"Slave," he says silkily, slinking towards me. I look at him blankly, disinterestedly. "Did you not hear my call?"

I don't respond.

"Answer me!"

I say nothing.

"Impudent slave-girl." He strides over and pulls me up by a forearm. "I would punish you, but fortunately for you I am tired at present." He lets me go and jerks his head towards the adjoining bathroom. "Come and wash me."

He turns his back and begins to walk away, but quickly realizes that I am not following. His ears are attuned to my footsteps. He turns around and looks at me, impatient.

I raise an eyebrow and hold up my hands, which are still chained to his bed. Smiling sardonically he comes over to me silently, brandishing a key he takes from one of the folds in his robes, and unlocks my shackles.

I stand up and rub my raw wrists. I have scabs, fresh wounds, bruises.

"Aw, poor girl," he coos at me. He grabs my wrists and brings fire to his hands, heating my skin until the wounds, new and old, sear in pain, and I am gritting my teeth in an effort not to scream.

He releases me, and walks off into the neighboring bathroom. I follow slowly, breathing deeply, trying to ignore the pain in my wrists. I walk in behind him and begin to fill the bath with water. It does not take long, although my wrists burn badly.

"Undress me."

I do so as quickly as I can, averting my eyes from his exposed flesh and folding his robes slowly. When I am done, he steps into the bath, groaning in satisfaction as he is covered by the warm water, oh so content.

"Massage me."

I was hoping he would order that. I move behind him and touch his broad shoulders lightly. I move my hands gently around his back and shoulders, carefully lulling him. Slowly I move up to his neck and -

_Crick!_

His head lolls forward and I move away. He'll remain knocked out for an hour or so. As tempting it is to kill him right then, I know I cannot do so. I need a thought-out, flawless plan before I can get away from this horrible place, and as of now I am completely incapable of finding my way out of the Fire Lord's palace.

So instead of killing my tormentor, I go over to the marble wash basin and begin caring for my injured hands.

* * *

WD94: I hope this makes more sense now... I know when I went back to read this chapter I was not pleased with it... so I hope it's better. Review!


	3. Chapter 3

WiltingDaisies94: Finally, here is the cleaned up version of this chapter. I rather winced while reading through the original version.; I certainly wrote it a long time ago. I am much more satisfied with it now. The chapter has more than doubled in length, but I think the tone matches the rest of the story much better than before.

Small literary warning, this chapter changes point of view twice, going from Zuko to Katara and then back to Zuko. That's what the line breaks signify.

So, last chapter Katara had the audacity to knock out the horrible Fire Lord keeping her captive. Now, we enter into his head for the first time, where danger lurks and logic is not always logical. Onwards!

* * *

Chapter 3

I am the Fire Lord.

It's quite a bit more than a title. Perhaps the average simpleton believes that being royalty is nothing more than living in luxury's lap. This, however, is blatantly false. My occupation is the running of a nation, a calling that requires intelligence, cunning, foresight, and cruelty. In exchange for doing a reasonable job of keeping the Fire Nation the greatest on earth, I remain the most powerful man alive.

And power always inspires fear.

Now don't mistake this comment for a complaint. Being His Majesty has many upsides, more than most other professions, I imagine. I may have whatever I desire, whenever and for any reason.

Well, perhaps I should qualify that statement. I may have any material thing that can be taken or bought.

I cannot have that which refuses my rule.

And by that I do mean her: my pretty, horrible, little slave-girl.

I cannot have her obedience. I cannot buy it or thieve it, despite many solid attempts to do so. She has performed a pesky trick, locking away her will behind her silence. She refuses to speak; it is her punishment, her only triumph over me. She knows firsthand that I can imprison and torture her, but her speech is her own, and I can never own that.

Believe me, I have tried.

I've kept her locked away for two years, torturing her into submission. She's been whipped, beaten and burned more intensely than any of her behavior has deserved. I've waited in vain for her screams, but she's never broken down. She remains silent, quiet as the dead rebels who lost the Great War.

She's never complained. It's as if she feels nothing anymore, and that strikes me every time she looks up with those huge, empty eyes. I cannot bear to look on her detestably cherubic face. Her silence infuriates me.

I wish to hold the whip, but so long as she is quiet, I never can.

Hers is the most effective punishment I have witnessed.

Perfectly silent defiance.

For although I am the Fire Lord, and I rule most of what is left of this world, I cannot have anything I want. Because of her accursed willpower, I cannot take her obedience, her temperament, or her faithfulness.

Yet.

* * *

He grunts. He's waking up.

I stir the water in the tub, rushing over from the washstand, making sure the Fire Lord doesn't think I've left. I gently ghost my hands across his back, having long ago learned to control the revulsion in my face.

"Mm," he sighs happily and shakes his head groggily. A bit shakily, he stands up, using the sides of the tub to support his weight. He's a bit woozy, although he won't know why. "Girl," he commands me, shaking back his hair, "come here and dry me off. Why must you insist on letting my skin wrinkle so dreadfully, little fool? Not all of us are as enamored of water as you peasant people."

I ignore the barb and move to fetch him a towel, but before I've stepped more than a foot away, his voice stops me. "No. Did I tell you to bring me a cloth? Honestly, you'd think your time here would have taught how to follow orders." He casts me a look of disdain, with a trickle of devious joy passing through his face. "Tonight you are going to waterbend me dry."

For the first time in a very long while, my impassive look slips off my face and I give a start. My mouth nearly falls open, and my eyebrows shoot up my forehead.

He smirks at my dumbfounded expression and crosses his arms across his broad chest. "Did I stutter, slave? Or were you not listening? Waterbend. Now."

I was listening, but what could possibly induce me to believe that command more than a sick joke? But I can see him becoming impatient, and despite my shock, I lift my hands and move my wrists in the most simple pattern I remember. Quivering with unease (I have not bent in far too long a time to have solid control), the water clinging to the Fire Lord falls unevenly back into the tub.

He watches with a curious expression, but doesn't stop me. "Fetch my robes," he demands, once I've finished. I step away from him and retrieve the requested articles of clothing from a waiting pile. Returning, I proffer them.

But the Fire Lord is full of surprises tonight, and he shakes his head as if he is dissatisfied. Before I have time to swap this displeasing set for another, he snatches the clothes from me and says, "You're dismissed."

I stare once more. Never, in all my time, has the Fire Lord ever let me go early.

His tone hardens, as he steps onto the floor and pulls on his under robe. "Leave, slave," he demands.

I am frozen in shock, unable to will myself to move. This miserable semblance of a human being is letting me go off to sleep before midnight, and without his usual verbal assault.

Impossible.

My defiance, however unintentional, angers him, and he shouts with fervor, "Go!"

Still I do not move. It is not my wish to enrage him, but I cannot believe my ears. I wonder at the sick joke he is playing, and what will happen if I do as he orders.

"Out!" he yells, lifting his hands, drawing flame from the torches in the bathroom. He forms balls of fire, and begins to shoot at me, howling in irritation and fury.

I stumble back and fall, scrambling on my hands and knees to get away from him. I run for the door and slam it behind me, sinking to the floor while my heart races. Even after two years, the Fire Lord can still terrify me. I pick myself up, shaking slightly, and scuttle over to a corner of the bedchamber, trying to melt into the wall.

* * *

I lost my temper.

It does not particularly bother me to have done so. The 'what' pales in comparison to the 'why'. Except, I know the why already, and have for a longer time than I've realized.

I want back the girl she used to be. I am tired of this silent specter, this shimmer and shade of a person. I am interested in finding the feisty spirit, the strong waterbender who loathed me with a purpose. She hates me now with a coldness that has no appeal.

I am a firebender. We appreciate the hot anger of our own kind.

To break her down, to win this game, I cannot take control of the creature she's become. I need to assert my authority over the girl she once was, the temperamental waterbender who played against me during the Great War.

And there's only one way to do that.

* * *

WD94: Ah, so much better. Who knew reviewing old chapters could be so difficult?


	4. Chapter 4

WiltingDaisies94: This is the chapter I stopped at the first time I went through this story (so many, many moons ago). With revision and continuation, please enjoy this installment!

* * *

Chapter 4:

He walks out into his room, his face a mask of calm serenity. Unconsciously I recoil, and try not to look at him. "Katara?"

He must have had too much to drink tonight, it's obvious from the way he's acting. The Fire Lord does not let me waterbend, he does not let me off early, and he does not, under any circumstances, call me by my name.

I stare at him.

He walks over to me and holds out his hand, wordlessly telling me to give him my burnt wrist. I flinch and barely move my arm, but it is enough. With a shocking tenderness he grasps it, and scrutinizes my burns intently. "My," he comments, "this seems quite painful."

I wait for the smirk of self-satisfaction. It never comes.

"Perhaps our healers should take a look at this."

I blink. What in the world is he saying? Either the Fire Lord slipped and hit his head on the marble in the bathroom, or someone put something is his wine that certainly didn't belong there.

"Come with me, please." He reaches out and gently takes my small hand in his, guiding me out of the room and into the dim hallway.

The palace of the Fire Lord is essentially an enormous catacomb. The walls are colored red, or gold, or orange, or a mixture of the three, and each is hung with intricate tapestries and gilded portraits of past monarchs and historical figures. The bronze torches that line the halls are forever glowing, unless a direct order from the Fire Lord requests they be turned off. Special firebenders are trained to keep them going day in and day out, raising the light when night arrives, dimming it come midnight.

I couldn't find my way around here in a million years. Every hall twists off in three different directions at least, and the lack of light, windows, stairways corrupts my sense of direction. Furthermore, I am hardly ever outside the Fire Lord's chambers.

We've reached wherever the Fire Lord has seen fit to take me, and two bowing guards open a large door. "Ayza!" the Fire Lord calls imperiously as he strides into the room. It is a vast space, filled with what I take to be medical supplies, beds, and the like; an infirmary.

A young woman emerges from behind an unseen door and bows gracefully before the Fire Lord. I size her up with a glance; she can't possibly be more than a year or two older than I am, and seems to be shaking slightly. Not that I can blame her, I think, as my body catches up with my brain. The room is unusually cold.

"Yes, my lord?" Ayza (that must be her name) asks. Her voice is delicate and quaint, but pitched low, exactly what you would expect from someone her size. She is built petite, shorter than I am, though not by much.

"I want you to check this girl over," he commands in that easy, bored tone of his.

Ayza grimaces imperceptibly at the phrasing. I imagine that it's usually used in a different context, for the Fire Lord's parade of whores and dancing girls. Wouldn't want our beloved master contracting one of their diseases, would we?

"I believe her wrists have been burnt rather badly." There is no trace of sarcasm in his voice. "After you look to that, give her the usual rundown."

Ayza stares at me, her quick eyes asking if this is some sort of joke. I look away, barely shaking my head; let her believe what she wants.

"Very well, my lord," she responds in an even tone, as if all her doubts from a moment ago have evaporated.

"And when you are finished, send her along to Ty Lee. I do believe this girl is in desperate need of a new wardrobe." With that the Fire Lord walks out, hands clasped together behind him. "Oh, and Ayza?" he adds on afterthought.

"Yes my lord?"

"Take very good care of this one."

Ayza bows. "I will, my lord."

He nods his head and then exits the room.

Hesitating a moment, but too curious not to ask, Ayza turns to me, her earlier look of disbelief having returned full force. "What on earth did you do to him?"

I must look taken a back, because Ayza hurries to explain her thoughts. "I mean, the Fire Lord is never so charitable when it comes to... well, to, to girls like you." She covers her mouth and blushes slightly, realizing how her words sound. "No, I didn't mean it like that, I am sure that there is some deeper reason, and that the Fire Lord really does-"

Undisturbed by her fumbling, I unclasp the necklace I'm wearing, and hold it up so she can see. Ayza's eyes widen, and her mouth forms a silent "O" of understanding.

"So you're the one who-" she shakes her head, "-the one he-". She cannot complete a sentence. "I've heard talk about you," she finishes. "The one he keeps hidden away from the world..." Ayza trails off. "I'm so sorry," she manages eventually.

I make no reply.

Ayza looks at me with sympathy written clearly across her delicate features. "Come with me," she says, taking my hand as gently as she can. "I can only imagine what he's done to you. We're going to get you a full medical look over, to make sure that everything is fine or at least fixable." She snorts a bit roughly and a surprising bit of disgust enters her tone. "Perhaps I can find something to stop the Fire Lord from making an idiotic mistake when he lets his emotions get in the way and tries one of his awful tricks. Poor innocent girl, this just does it for me! Now where did I put those bandages-?"

She's talking to herself more than me now. I stop listening and stare over Ayza' shoulder.

Kindness is something I no longer understand how to respond to.

* * *

WiltingDaisies94: Zuko's plotting, as always, and Katara is caught in the middle.

Yes, Ayza is an OC, belonging to yours truly, who you will see again in the future. I'll put the first warning here: my OCs come in varieties; some are quite significant to the plot, some are almost entirely irrelevant. So keep your eyes open and ears sharp around them!


	5. Chapter 5

WiltingDaisies94: Hello everybody! I just signed into my account for the first time in six months, and I read through this fic and thought, 'Hey, I should probably update this. I had a pretty good idea of where I wanted this to go!' And because my inspiration comes in short bursts and due to extreme guilt at my lack of update ability, I sat down and wrote the next chapter.

So quick recap: last time we left our Fire Lord Zuko in a scheming mood and slave Katara absolutely shocked at his strange behavior. Medical treatment and new clothes? What could he be up to?

* * *

Chapter 5

After applying a cool salve to my aching wrists, and giving me a cup of herbal tea to drink, Ayza beckons me to follow her. She's surprisingly pleased with my physical condition, she tells me. Not delighted per say, but at least nothing is seriously wrong. I'm covered in bruises, scars and burn marks, but at least, she remarks in an almost satisfied way, I have no broken bones.

Ayza walks me down a hallway lined with those ever present torches, leading me to Ty Lee's apartments. I've never been there before, and I know nothing about this part of the palace. She talks to me quietly as we walk, her voice the only sound in the empty corridor.

"You're from the Southern Water Tribe, yes?" she asks. It's a courtesy, I suppose. She knows she won't get a reply.

I nod.

"I like water," she admits, blushing at the childish sound of the sentiment. "Even growing up in the Fire Nation, I've always thought it was rather beautiful."

I say nothing, but she can tell that I'm paying attention by the slowing of my footsteps. Although it doesn't matter to me what she says, I'd rather listen to her talk and take my time walking before facing Ty Lee.

"I grew up relatively close to the ocean. I can't remember much before I was about five years old, but I've always liked swimming." She smiles a little. "My parents were unhappy with it – Fire Nation children don't swim. Not well, anyway."

I take a moment to enjoy a mental picture of the Fire Lord splashing about, helpless, stranded in the middle of the sea.

"So they sent me into the heart of the city for a proper education. They were thrilled at the prospect of me becoming a healer." Her mouth twists, giving her face a wry expression. "A rather ironic turn of events, considering that healing is associated with water and the Water Tribes."

I study her, not sure what to make of this soft spoken girl. She's unlike most of the other people I've glimpsed, and part of me wants to know how she came to work for the devil himself.

"It's that one, there, at the end of the hall," she says offhandedly, still walking. "Her rooms, I mean."

I curse in my head, willing Ty Lee's apartments to be a longer way from Ayza's medical premises.

We reach the door within a minute, and stop outside. "I'd like to say it's been nice meeting you," Ayza says awkwardly. "I am sorry for the circumstances, though. The Fire Lord… he is… that is, he can be…" she looks down. "I am sorry," she repeats, twisting her hands uncomfortably.

There is no reply, spoken or otherwise, that I can give her. There is no excuse for what has been done to me. The Fire Lord can burn in hell. Or better yet, he can drown again and again, for all of eternity, with me holding his head underwater.

"But," she says, looking up and right at me, "I'll tell you a secret."

I'm a bit surprised, but I hide it well. What could she possibly have to tell me?

She crooks her finger at me, and I lean closer to catch her whispered words. "I have always wanted to be a water bender," she confesses.

I raise my eyebrows. What?

"Water benders use their abilities to help others – to heal. Here in the Fire Nation," she says, her voice dropping to an almost inaudible level, "all we ever seem to do is hurt."

I watch her face, and I perceive something I haven't seen in a long time: honesty. And in my world such a simple thing is novel. Although I won't say anything, I put a hand on her shoulder. I don't smile, but she knows I understand what she means.

"Here." She reaches for the knob and opens the door to Ty Lee's apartments. "Goodbye," she says, giving me a brief smile.

I nod to Ayza and walk through the door.

It has been a year or more since I've seen Ty Lee, and nonetheless she looks the same. Her long hair is plaited into the same vicious-looking braid, and pink is clearly still her favorite color. Her movements are still dainty and prancing, and she still talks far too much.

"Well hello," she chirps, moving from the couch she's been occupying. "If it isn't the elusive mute water bender." Her tone is as light and chipper as ever, but it holds an edge of malice. "Come along!" she orders, sweeping into an adjoining room, not waiting for me to follow.

The room is an enormous closet with clothes hanging and folded everywhere. "I do wonder," Ty Lee begins, pirouetting across the floor, "what our beloved Fire Lord has in mind for you. He was in here earlier, saying something about providing a new wardrobe, and it sounded like he meant the real deal." She squints at me, laughing merrily. "You're lucky I can tell your measurements just by looking at you. After all, it's not like you'd tell me!" She bursts into peals of laughter at her own joke.

I frown. I didn't ask for this treatment, nor am I interested in it. Yes, the medical attention was nice (not to mention long overdue), but I don't care what I wear, provided it covers me up.

"So tell me," Ty Lee chatters on, "what did you for him? I'm assuming this must be some sort of… compensation, shall we say?" She wiggles her eyebrows. "Our Fire Lord can be _very _generous."

I glance at her skeptically. Even if I were willing to speak, there is no way I'd deign to answer that question.

"Fine, have it your way!" Ty Lee leaps over to a drawer and begins tossing clothes about, until it seems as if the ceiling were raining red and pink cloth. "No," she mutters to herself, flying through the clothing in the drawer. "I must find something that suits your coloring." She smiles at me. "Not everyone can be as fair as us Fire-folk."

I roll my eyes at the double meaning. The Fire Nation is made up of the cruelest, most unfair people I've ever had the misfortune of encountering. Excepting perhaps Ayza, their "coloring" represents all that is fair about them.

"Try this," Ty Lee says, tossing me a garment. It's a dress, as far as I can tell, and at the very least it should cover enough of me. The sleeves are long, but only flow slightly – at least they won't get in the way of my "duties". The front shouldn't be cut too low, and the skirt reaches my ankles.

But it's red.

Red.

The color of blood. The color of fire.

His color.

I twitch in revulsion, but begin to pull off my clothes. I have no choice.

There are no blue clothes in the Fire Nation.

* * *

WD94: I hope you enjoyed that update, and that you can retain some faith in me as an author (if not an updater). Please review!


	6. Chapter 6

WiltingDaisies94: Wow, this is probably a personal best - two chapters written within five days of each other. Wooh!

* * *

Chapter 6

I chuckle to myself, basking in the cleverness of my machinations. I love the moments when I know precisely what needs to be done – the when and how. And of course, because my ideas are so brilliant, I simply must share them with someone.

I descend into the lower levels of the palace, down to the holding cells. I will give the original Fire Lord credit for this at least: he knew how to build a maze. There are moments when even I, who grew up here, have trouble remembering the entire layout of the palace. Besides its impressive size, the compound is dimly lit and the passageways are generally indistinguishable. It occurs to me every once in a while that I should do something to change that, but somehow I never find the time.

I reach the dungeons in a reasonable amount of time, doubling back only once after taking a wrong turn on the second level. The two guards at the opening gate bow in unison, and I pass through. Rows of criminals stretch before me, and I begin to cover my nose with my sleeve. The smell is truly awful, one of rot and decay, the stink of human vermin, unwashed for months or years.

I stop myself before I cover my nose. As the ruler of the Fire Nation, a warrior and firebender, my reputation demands discipline and strength. I snarl a bit at myself, and put my hand back at my side, balled into a fist. No Fire Lord shirks at the smell of death, and certainly not the deaths of those who deserve it.

I move past the rows of prisoners. It's always interesting to see how different people respond to imprisonment. Some are curled into corners, rocking back and forth, muttering nonsense, eyes darting about wildly. Others are silent, sitting in their cells as if they hardly know where they are to begin with. And occasionally there are those who make a great ruckus, screaming until the guards beat them down sufficiently. I shake my head, unimpressed.

Guards are interspersed among the holding cells, keeping watch on the prisoners, talking amongst themselves in mild boredom. They straighten and bow as I go by, muttering, "Milord," or "Your Highness". I pay little attention to their respects, as I expect to receive them.

The farther into the dungeons I travel the murkier the atmosphere and the mustier the smell. Unfortunately, firebenders' eyes are not made for darkness, and my descending makes it more and more difficult to see. By the time I reach my destination I can barely make out anything more than three feet in front of me.

By the light of the dimmest torch I see a man, the only guard of this particular cell, half cloaked in shadow. His name is Orii. He is at least my age, if not a few years older, and of earth kingdom descent, if my guessing is fair. Only a man from the Earth Kingdom would be comfortable this far underground.

"Highness," he rumbles out, inclining his head deeply.

I chose Orii specifically for this position. He is an earth bender, but loyal to the Fire Nation, having been brought up here. He follows my orders without questioning, and has never asked what he's guarding. All I've ever told him is that should anything emerge from the cell, he is to crush it immediately. He agrees to this policy without quarreling; not that he speaks all that much to begin with.

I could almost like him, if I were disposed to liking others.

I don't reply to him vocally, but I give him a quick nod, which is more than any of the other guards will ever see. "Open the door," I command.

He reaches for a key in his belt and produces it, sticking it swiftly into the lock. He knows I will go into the cell for about an hour, although he does not know what I will do. He knows that no one is to enter besides me, and that he is not to tell anyone that I have visited. "Milord," he says, pulling back the door.

I enter, and listen to the door swing shut behind me. It takes my eyes a moment to adjust to the sudden change in brightness. I am no longer squinting in the shadows, but rather shielding my eyes from the light in the cell. Before me stands a giant crystal, twelve feet tall and eight feet wide, emitting a ghostly white light. It casts patterns throughout the room and across the walls, eerie and attractive.

And in the center of this crystal, frozen in a moment of time, is the Avatar. Encased, trapped, as he has been for the last two years, and will remain forevermore. Here, in the heart of the Fire Nation, I hold captive the last remnant of rebellion against my power.

"Hello, Aang."

I walk over to the crystal tap it twice. The sound of my fingers drumming along the surface is calming, minute. I take a moment to enjoy the silence, look at the Avatar, who cannot move or hear.

But it doesn't really matter. I enjoy talking at him, for all his comatose state. "I saw your friend Katara today," I begin, pacing back and forth in front of the crystal. "She looks incredibly beautiful. Burn marks and bruises suit her."

I imagine the young Avatar's face turning red, his eyes blazing in anger. Oh yes. Very nice indeed. "But you needn't worry," I continue, smirking at the crystal. "She won't be staying that way for much longer. I find I'm rather tired of this routine of torture. Nothing seems to come of it, and after all," I say, flashing him a look of mock contrition, "I am not a cruel man."

I pace again, the entire length of the crystal, before deciding what to say next. "I sent her out for medical attention, and afterwards I'll be treating her to a new wardrobe. All women like clothing. Who knows? I've never seen the little witch in anything but rags or those hideous medieval skins of the Water Tribes. Maybe she'll look better in Fire Nation robes." A smile twists onto my face, and I take a moment to picture it.

Pretty Katara, all dressed up in reds and maroons, long skirts and flowing sleeves. "I wonder if she'll favor the slashed robes of the western Fire Nation ladies. They reveal quite a lot of their skin." I rub my hands together. "And sometimes the slits in their skirt shoot so far up their thighs…they don't leave much to the imagination. After all, it is so devastatingly _hot_ in this country." I draw out my syllables, enjoying their affect. The Avatar would be furious. A pity he can't hear.

"And where should I put such a treasure? She's so used to being chained up to my bed. Perhaps I should put her in it instead…" I close my eyes and envision the little slave in my bed, amongst the black linens. Her skirt is short, barely reaching her mid thigh, with one long red panel down the front. Her stomach is bare, her top half covered with a small scarlet cloth, dangling with orange and pink jewels. It is held up by a tie around her neck and another around her back, such that could easily be removed. Around her neck is a strip of maroon velvet, and her hair is down, spreading in waves over the bedclothes.

"Oh," I give a little moan at the thought. It's a nice little image, and it's beginning to give me ideas… until I see her face. In my mind I envision it clearly. Her expression is cold and disgusted, and her anger repels me. I no longer see her pose as weak and inviting, rather she is waiting for me to try, to give her the chance to strike. Her eyes speak volumes, reprimanding me and warning that one of us will die before she is so insulted.

"Ugh!" I recoil in revulsion. "Little whore!" I yell, opening my eyes. "No! That is not what I have I mind for your little friend, Avatar, take comfort in that. I would sooner invite a wild Shirshu to share my bed."

"No. I will break her down." I face the Avatar, the crystal, and stare through it. "I needn't debase myself in such a manner. No. I will kill her with goodness, the sort which worms its way into the heart. And once she's drunk the poison of my goodwill, I will tear it out from under her." I grit my teeth, and clench my fists. "Gone. Everything she will have learned to trust and rely on will be ripped away. I will win. And if it kills her – so be it."

* * *

WD94: Wow, so Zuko's on the slightly unhinged side... just the way we love him! Poor Aang, all trapped inside a big glowing crystal thing :( Where do we go from here? Review and find out!


	7. Chapter 7

WiltingDaisies94: Chapter 7 in before the week is out! This is crazy productive for me... not a clue how long it will last, but I hope for a while! So go read and be happy!

* * *

Chapter 7

By the time Ty Lee is finished putting together my new wardrobe, the floor is so covered with clothing it looks as if a volcano erupted with stitchery. The myriad of red, pink, black and white burns my eyes, the way one feels after staring at the sun for too long. I blink and I can almost swear I see robes and dresses, skirts and chemises dancing behind my eyelids.

"There it is!" Ty Lee, still as inexhaustible as ever, snatches a white something out of a drawer that could have been classified as orderly…a half an hour ago. She holds it up, mentally measuring. As much as it pains me, I must admit that Ty Lee is an excellent diviner of how clothing will fit. After nearly two hours of pulling clothes out of nooks and crannies and forcing me to wriggle in and out of everything, she's only come up with one thing that wasn't a good fit.

"Here." She flings it at me, and I catch it surprisingly easily. Well, considering the previous two hours of practice, maybe not so surprisingly. I hold the garment out in front of me; it's a nightdress, soft and white. I measure the length against my body, and it falls just above my knee. Not unusual, considering how humid the Fire Nation can be, especially during the summer.

I pull it over my head, enjoying the gentle feel of the silk against my skin. The sleeves are three-quarter length, and the whole nightdress has an airy quality to it. The skirt is light, and the bodice fits nicely against my waist, but not too tightly. I hear an "mm-hm" of approval from Ty Lee, and face her.

She nods her head. "Yes, I believe that will do nicely." Taking a breath, she smiles at me. "Well little girl, it would seem we have concluded our little adventure through my backup closet."

_Backup_ closet? She can't possibly mean there's more…

She laughs at the look on my face. "No need to bolt like a frightened ostrich-horse," she comments, still chuckling. "As if I'd take any more time searching through perfectly good clothing just because our Fire Lord is going through a strange mood. No, I think I've done my duty."

I almost say 'thank you', but I crush the instinct, biting my lip. I was raised to be polite, even to those who don't deserve it, but two years as the Fire Lord's torture doll has almost finished off that characteristic. Ty Lee isn't doing any of this for me, and despite her smile, she isn't enjoying catering to a worthless little slave-girl. A wave of dislike washes over me.

Ty Lee bounds across the room, leaping over the impressive piles of clothing, barely touching the ground. Reaching the entrance to the room, she puts two fingers in her mouth and lets out a sharp, high-pitched whistle.

A heavily built guardsmen comes running, a dagger in hand. "Mistress," he says with a bow, "you beckoned? Are you in danger?"

"Oh no, no danger." Ty Lee waves her hand in a dismissive manner. "Put that dagger away, I really don't care for my clothes being accidentally carved up."

The man obeys, frowning in confusion.

"I need you to fetch me some maids," Ty Lee says. "Several for a simple carrying job. You see that pile there?" She gestures to a small heap. "It must be taken to the Fire Lord's apartments, immediately."

The guard raises his eyebrows, not following. His face clearly reads – 'what would the Fire Lord want with a bunch of ladies clothing?'. I snicker inside my head at the thought.

"Oh, and send me a few maids to clean up this mess." She glances at the clothes strewn about the room, and smiles. That's why she can toss everything about so carelessly – she knows she won't be the one cleaning up.

The guard nods. "Yes, Mistress." He turns around and marches away, until his footsteps completely fade.

"Well then, since we're done here," Ty Lee begins, picking her way over to the front room, and ushering me out of the giant closet, "I suggest you return to your master's chambers. He'll be awfully displeased if you're not there when he returns. And our beloved Fire Lord has a bit of a temper, so I'm told." She appraises the burns on my wrists and scrunches up her nose.

I move towards the door, no more eager to stay with Ty Lee than she is to have me remain. I'm just about to step out when she remembers. "Oh! I don't suppose you know the way back to your master's apartments from here, do you?" She puts two fingers in her mouth and whistles shrilly, twice this time.

There's a silence, and after a few moments I hear the shuffle of feet. An older man, who looks to be about seventy years old, complete with a white beard and long red robes, walks slowly out of the inner apartments. "You called, Mistress Ty Lee?" he asks in a raspy voice.

She smiles brightly. "It would be most convenient for me if you would escort this slave-girl back to the Fire Lord's chambers. I'd take her myself, but I'm afraid I've other matters that require attending." Ty Lee is already edging backwards. "Just make sure she arrives safely, and then return."

"Is that all?" The old man tilts his head, looking me up and down.

"Absolutely." Ty Lee nods happily. "Until then." She inclines her head imperceptibly, either at me or the old man, and I'm guessing it's not meant for me. He doesn't respond, and we exit Ty Lee's apartments with the sound of her humming in our ears.

The hallways are as difficult to keep straight on the way out as they were on the walk in. I can discern which direction Ayza and I came from, but hardly more than that. The corridors play tricks on my eyes, always seeming longer than they really are. It's fortunate that waterbenders' eyes are capable of seeing well in the darkness, or I'd be in serious trouble every time I took a step.

"Do you have a name, girl?" the old man asks, shuffling along beside me.

I don't answer. I never do. I subtly observe his body – his frame is a bit hunched over and his hands are gnarled. He has an odd gait, not quite a limp, but he doesn't walk straight. I wonder how hard it would be to get rid of him… maybe knock him out and then run. Although I'd have to find a way out of the palace, and considering I can't figure out where the place I spend ninety percent of my time is located, running's a difficult option.

"I wouldn't try, if I were you." He isn't looking, but his words are directed at me. "I may not seem like much to you, but eyes are easily deceived. Trying to escape will be a fruitless attempt on your part, and rather a waste of my energy." His tone doesn't change, remaining mild and gravelly, despite his warning.

"I've heard about you," he says slowly. "You're the waterbender from the South. The one who was mixed up with Avatar during the Great War." He is silent for a minute, pondering. "It's rather amazing he let you live. The new Fire Lord is not much of a man for mercy or sentiment. He takes after his father in that respect."

I look away from him, not interested in hearing about Ozai, who is often considered the cruelest Fire Lord in over a century. Dealing with his son is punishment enough, quite literally.

"Mistress Ty Lee never mentioned that you were a mute," he comments. "I heard something of a blind girl, but no talk of a silent one. It is intriguing that the Avatar should so favor the disabled."

I feel a pang at the mention of Toph, even though he doesn't say her name. I sometimes wonder if she is still alive, struggling from day to day. I try not to think about her too often. Even after two years… it hurts…

"I suppose if you will not speak, it would benefit you to listen," he says, his voice dropping. "I would tell you to call me Master Jhou, but," he chuckles, "as you won't be calling me anything, that seems unnecessary information."

I wonder what precisely he is a master of, but I don't ask.

"I've lived in the Fire Nation for as long as I can remember, which amounts to a substantial number of years. Zuko is the third Fire Lord under whom I have served. What my position is I can't say, but I have been a useful man to many of the royal line, and most recently I had the pleasure of serving the deceased Fire Lady Ursa. But that was years ago… I am afraid that the current Fire Lord does not understand my value." His voice acquires a put-out tone. "Now I am a servant of Mistress Ty Lee, whose whims are simple enough."

I realize why he is saying this to me. Master Jhou is trying to explain that he is a force to be reckoned with. His words hint that he held serious power during the time of Lord Ozai and Lady Ursa, and that he is a valuable man and ally. He is not interested in working for Ty Lee, that much is clear, and enjoys his real work… whatever that may be.

"Here." He leads me down another corridor, one that I recognize. "The Fire Lord's apartments." He brings me to the door, and opens it slowly, his twisted hands silent against the wood.

I am just about to slip through, but Master Jhou grabs my forearm and holds me back. "Think on my words, girl," he whispers, his face masked by the shadowy hallway. It doesn't take more than a second, and he lets me go. He turns away and shuffles down the empty corridor with his uneven gait.

I step into the Fire Lord's apartments, and close the door behind me. I am confused. I've lived in silence, stowed away in the Fire Lord's chambers, for two years, and suddenly he has lifted me out of solitude. In a few short hours I've already met two unknown people: Ayza, who offers a kind face, and Master Jhou, who may be friend or foe.

My mind is spinning with questions that I will not voice, and thus they grow louder and louder in my head.

Why was Ayza so sympathetic? Was she merely pretending to be kind? What was with all her talk about waterbending?

And what does this Master Jhou want? Is he a spy for Zuko? Or maybe Ty Lee? What sort of work is he actually meant to do? Was he trying to warn me about something? What sort of person is hiding under that battered exterior?

And more than anything, what the hell is the Fire Lord trying to do with me?

* * *

WD94: Cheers for OC character introductions! As always, leave me a review or comment!


	8. Chapter 8

WiltingDaisies94: Next chapter is in... not as pleased with it as I intended to be... but feel free to let me know if you think differently. Well, as ever, onwards to our favorite wacked out Fire Lord!

* * *

Chapter 8:

I return from my visit to the Avatar, all feelings of agitation gone. I had cast the girl out of my mind, and spent the next hour describing the military victories and tactics of my army. It's a good thing I know the Avatar's facial expressions well, or he'd make for an unfortunately dull audience.

The door to my apartments is open when I arrive. A procession of maids is filing out, chatting happily amongst themselves, until they see me approaching and fall silent. That's something I've had to grow used to; the sudden quiet whenever I enter a room, the constant bowing and scraping.

I walk into my chambers and pull off the heavy tunic I've been wearing. It falls to the floor in a crumpled heap of scarlet fabric. I'm about to walk away, but it occurs to me that she won't like the messiness of clothing on the floor. She's a neat person, my little slave. I stoop and pick the tunic up, hanging it over the back of a chair.

My bedroom is adjacent to the front hall, and I head inside. Stepping into the room, I notice that several things have changed. For one, there is a chest of drawers against the wall, a polished wooden creation. I assume it is holding the new wardrobe I requested, and judging from its size, Ty Lee outdid herself. I make a mental note to do something nice for the pink acrobat.

For another, there is a small cot a few feet away from my bed. I'd ordered it before going to see the Avatar, and it was precisely as I'd asked. The cot was simple, with white sheets and a cerise colored blanket. Cerise verges on purple, rather than the striking scarlet of the Fire Nation, and the waterbender is always glancing at the red hangings and bedclothes with distaste.

Right on cue the door to the adjoining bathroom opens and the slave – no, I mean, Katara – walks out. I must stop thinking of her as a servant, or my plan will never even take off, much less work. She has a name now, I think to myself. The waterbending peasant scum has a name. It's difficult to remember. I never call her by her name.

She doesn't say anything, but moves across the room to the place by my bed where I keep her. She sits beside the cot, and looks at me with her blue eyes, steely and dull, compelling me to fill the silence. "I suppose that all went well with Ty Lee?" I ask hesitantly, trying to figure out precisely what tone to take with her. I keep going, because I know she won't reply. "Did she provide you with night clothing?"

Silently she walks to the large chest of drawers and opens one of the lower two. She rummages for a minute, and then pulls out a white number, which she holds up for my scrutiny. It's a nightgown, creamy white, not cut too low in front, with a light skirt. Of course that would be her choice, for it is neither red, nor skimpy, nor bedecked with ribbons and bows. Ty Lee must have shown great restraint in dressing my servant, else she would never have chosen something so old fashioned.

"Please, put it on," I say. She glares at me, and it takes a moment before I realize why. "Of course, you must have your privacy." I leave the room, entering into the bathroom, enjoying her shocked expression. She was not expecting that, I think, smirking to myself.

I discard most of my robes, as well as my boots, until I am dressed only in a baggy pair of pants. I study myself in a large mirror on the side wall, examining my reflection. My chest is broad and scarred – for a man of fewer than twenty-five years, I have certainly seen my share of battle. I remember how most of my wounds were obtained, what made them special enough to scar. I flex once, watching my arms muscles bulge and my stomach tighten. I feel tall as a mountain and sturdy as a brick wall. One's body is a very certain thing, I think. The mind may forget, but a body always remembers.

I pull my hair out of its knot, placing the Flame of Power on top of my discarded clothing. Personally, I prefer my hair down, but matters of importance dictate otherwise. Something about how wearing one's hair up will assure the success and upward mobility of an endeavor…? If I may say, it seems to be pure nonsense and superstition, but even a Fire Lord is bound by tradition.

I leave my clothes on the floor – a maid will be in tomorrow morning to clean up – and return to my bedchamber. The girl has finished changing, and she turns around when she hears my footsteps.

I begrudgingly admit, the nightdress looks surprisingly nice on her. If her other clothes fit her as well, then Ty Lee really did an impressive job. The white contrasts nicely with her darker skin, and body of the nightgown fits her exactly. Clothes are hardly an area of interest for me, but I know enough to know that she looks… pleasing. Maybe even, comfortable?

"Please," I entreat, walking across the room, "feel free to use it."

She glances suspiciously at the cot, the way a cat reviews a pool of water. After sleeping on a hard floor for two years she can't accept a simple cot to rest in without suspicion. How irritating. I will her to just get into the damn thing – for the sake of the Fire Nation! She's acting as if I've asked her into my own bed, while brandishing a whip and ropes.

Slowly she sits down on the cot, her face distrustful, as if she expects the whole contraption to burst into flames. Fresh annoyance washes over me, so I distract myself, turning away from her and dimming the lights in the room. The candles flicker down in unison, drawing the shadows in close.

I settle myself into bed, lying down amongst the clean linens that are vaguely cinnamon scented. I wrinkle my nose in distaste – I've actually grown into a bit of an aversion to the smell. It's burnt like incense during state ceremonies, and thus always carries the memory of past decisions, some better than others.

I look over at the girl, who is glaring up at me with her big eyes. She raises an eyebrow and barely extends her hands. She holds her wrists together; she expects me to bind her, tie her down. Her face is relatively neutral as she tries to pull off the affect of not caring what I do, but I know better. That evenness will fade soon enough, and it will be my doing.

"No," I say with a shrug, not exactly looking at her. "It's simply not worth my getting out of bed."

Her face is caught between a frown and an expression of 'ok'. She doesn't understand why, and doesn't like that uncertainty. But at the same time she can hardly object to me letting her roam free. And goodness knows those shackles chafe, and that would just ruin her comfortable evening, now wouldn't it?

I lie back and smile at the canopy of my enormous bed. "Tomorrow," I begin, coming to the best part of tonight's performance, "you will be joining me for an audience with a representative of the Earth Kingdom. It's about time you got some idea of how I run things around here, after living in the capital city for two years."

I listen for a reaction, but hear nothing. "Of course, this means you must be dressed appropriately. I won't have anything less from you, and now that you have an adequate wardrobe, it should be an attainable goal. You'll be seated behind the viewing screen in the audience hall. This will allow you to be seen, without anyone else seeing you. So," I say, softening my voice, "there is no need to worry about covering up any scars. Only I will know you're there."

She doesn't say anything, but I hear her turn over on the cot; she's turning away from me. I'm not worried, though. By solving one mystery, I've opened up another, and I'm sure she'll be up long after I've drifted off to sleep, pondering.

* * *

WD94: So, do we like? (Hint: that means review).


	9. Chapter 9

WiltingDaisies94: Hello again, everyone. So this chapter has taken a little longer to put up, and this is fortunately not due to my inability to get it written. I've been traveling for the last few days, and have not had access to my computer. So I'm still in my writing groove, no worries.

In this chapter hopefully you'll get a bit more insight into my altered Avatar universe, and best of all, plot advancement. Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 9

I sit behind the private viewing screen, peeking through the dark mesh lacing in front of me. The curtain seems flimsy enough at first glance, but for all its transparency it might as well be made of wrought iron. Everything looks made up of of small diamond cutouts placed side by side, and the bright colors in the audience hall are tinted a few shades grayer.

When I was first introduced to my special seating area, it was beyond me why anyone would voluntarily stay hidden away behind this dreary contraption. The snatches of conversation I caught from the maids this morning formed a vague outline for me. Apparently the viewing screen was created for the use of a Fire Lady a few centuries ago, as it was not considered appropriate for women to be present for political discourse. This Fire Lady was supposedly quite apt with matters of trade, and she would advise her husband from behind the screen, thus still obeying the rule of staying out if sight.

I snort a bit to myself; typical male lines of thought, keeping capable women out of the way, just to hold onto their pride. I'll never understand what makes men think women so inferior. His High and Oh-So-Mighty Fire Lord speaks to women in only two ways: as if they are children, too simple to understand his words, or in that accursed demanding voice, sharp and perpetually displeased.

The audience is beginning and the Earth Kingdom representative steps forward and makes his obeisance to the Fire Lord. He's no one I recognize, and that is at the same time saddening and wonderful. On the one hand I would love to see someone, anyone I consider a friend. On the other, it means there is a chance that someone I care for is still out there, alive someplace. There are so many Earth Kingdom friends who I know nothing of…

"Your Highness," the Earth Kingdom diplomat begins and I snap to attention. Although basic trade between the two nations is of little interest to me, there is the distinct possibility that I can find out what is going on in the world I have been forcibly removed from.

"As ever, it is the pleasure of the Earth Kingdom to do business with the powerful Fire Nation. I, Ambassador Ri, am overjoyed to represent our great ruler King Lho the 53rd of the Earth Kingdom." Despite his words, his tone is relatively flat, and his face does not look as if joy is its favorite expression.

Earth King Lho. The diplomat starts his pitch to the Fire Lord as I mull this over. Obviously Kuei didn't stay in place when the war reached its peak. As much as the Fire Nation would have liked a soft king, Kuei always hated ruling. I've no idea where Bumi is… rumors of his leaving Omashu reached me once, but it always sounded inconclusive. So a new King is now on the throne. I wonder what sort of a man he is, what his claim to the throne may be. I listen once more.

Within the next few minutes I'm beginning to long for the solitude of the Fire Lord's chambers. Ambassador Ri has started on an interminable list of numbers and commodities. My ears fail to remain attentive as he talks about cattle and sheep, and some trade route to Ba Sing Se that is currently closed off. As he elaborates on several shipments of grains bound for Gaoling, Toph's hometown, my heart twists, and I return my attention to my own thoughts.

I review what I know about the Earth Kingdom as it is currently. After the Great War with the Avatar, King Kuei disappeared, and the Fire Nation occupied the Earth Kingdom for at least six months. During that period the new Fire Lord sought to rebuild the kingdom, and helped place a new king on the throne. A treaty between the two nations was established, after which the Fire Lord withdrew most of his troops, leaving behind only a few specialized units.

It's surprising that the Fire Lord did not see fit to subjugate the people of the Earth Kingdom. Rather than heeding the ambassador, I speculate as to the Fire Lord's reasons for leaving the other nation alone.

The Earth Kingdom after the war was a ravaged place, and would not have been difficult to conquer. With the King gone, and serious damage done to the capital city, the population was disoriented and nervous, seeking order; it would have been a great prize, a land rich with resources. The Earth Kingdom provided ore and minerals, and the population was generally full of excellent builders.

Well, perhaps the Fire Lord thought it more advantageous to help the nation regain its feet, thus giving him an ally permanently indebted to him. Not to mention that the Earth Kingdom is the largest of the four nations and it would have taken months, if not years to take over the whole kingdom. I can't imagine the Fire Lord relished the thought of forcing his tired troops into yet another series of long battles. People had not begun to call it "The Great War" without reason – even the rampaging army of the Fire Nation was weakened.

"There is another matter of some importance, Milord, concerning some prisoners the Jae Min arrested a few days ago." At these words I come out of my musings and listen eagerly. The Jae Min are the specialized units that remain in the Earth Kingdom. I don't know much about them, even basic information such as their function, but I've always assumed they were a spy group, a quasi-secret-police like the Dai Li used to be.

"Tell me," the Fire Lord commands, shifting in his throne. "What did the Jae Min arrest these men for?"

"Conspiracy and treason, Milord." Ambassador Ri takes a few steps forward and lowers his voice. "They were caught hiding out in a cave on the outskirts of Omashu. The walls were covered with maps of the Fire Nation, and they had a fair supply of weapons. Of course the Jae Min confiscated everything, and now await your orders regarding the prisoners."

The Fire Lord frowns for a moment, before rearranging his face into an indifferent expression. He can't appear too interested in the subject, else the Earth Kingdom might notice his anxiety. "Have the Jae Min execute the traitors at will." Insufficiently impressed, he flicks his hand impatiently.

Ambassador Ri nods. "Very good, Milord." He steps back, and I assume the matter is finished, but with a sudden look of remembrance, he stops. "Oh! There is, however, one more thing, Majesty."

"Yes?" The Fire Lord quirks an eyebrow.

The ambassador fumbles with a pouch at his waist. "There was…a symbol… carved into the southern wall of the cave… the one which the conspirators were found in." He's having difficulty opening the buckle, and pauses in his explanation to wrestle with it.

His Majesty's eyes narrow considerably. "What symbol?"

Ambassador Ri fishes out a piece of parchment from his bag and approaches the throne with a bow, holding it up. I squint, cursing the curtain in my way. It appears to be… the horns of an animal? The shape is an upside down 'U' that's been cut in half, leaving jagged edges at the breaking point, with an empty space between the two parts. I've no idea what it means, and the Fire Lord doesn't seem sure either.

"And," Ambassador Ri continues, "this was taken from one of the prisoners. It is the Jae Min's belief that this is what the symbol is based on." He reaches into the pouch again and pulls something out, an object this time.

When he holds it up by the edge for the Fire Lord to see, I can't restrain my gasp.

It's half of a broken boomerang.

Sokka.

My breath shortens; I can't breathe. The room around me spins, expanding and contracting. He's dead, my brother is dead, he died at the end of the war, no, it can't be that he's out there, and now, oh merciful heavens, it can't, it can't, it can't be, how would it, how, how?

"Ambassador!" I can't form a thought, and my eyes are wide with terror, but the Fire Lord's voice is a dangerous hiss. "Tell the Jae Min to bring the prisoners to the Fire Nation. To me. I would like to deal with them myself."

No! My head spins and I imagine watching Sokka executed in front of me… it's not… it's too…oh….no…

I black out, crumpling in my seat behind the viewing screen.

No one sees.

* * *

WD94: And there you have it.


	10. Chapter 10

WiltingDaisies94: Welcome to the tenth chapter of this fanfiction! I am very excited to have come this far within a reasonable amount of time (and by that I mean, without a six month break). All of my readers, thank you so much for the encouragement and support, and the endless urging to "UPDATE!"

Since 10 is an important chapter number that takes a fair amount of writing to reach, I would like to take a minute to recognize a particularly wonderful reader, who has stuck with me since I started writing again. This reader reviews every chapter and always has something to say. So, I am hereby dedicating this chapter to her: **SnoopyGirl213**. Thank you so much! =)

And now, the actual writing part. I kind of got into this chapter... it's the longest so far, by a fair amount. So please enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 10

_I shield my eyes. I am in an unknown place, lit very brightly, and the brilliance stings my eyes. But what I see through that pain is so beautiful that I cannot bear to turn away. Before me I observe the most wonderful sight: Aang, Toph, and Sokka, sitting together, laughing and joking. They must be in a meadow of some sort, for the landscape is green and leafy, and the sky is that perfect shade of azure, with the sun grinning from within. My friends call to me, beckoning me to join them._

_I try to respond, but no sound comes from my mouth. I want to tell them that I am coming, that I will be a part of everything once more. I clear my throat and try to speak, but still nothing comes out. My voice is gone. _

_ Instead, I lift my foot to walk forward, for I know I must reach them no matter the obstacles. But suddenly they are growing smaller, farther away. No! I attempt to run, but my feet are paralyzed, and the image shrinks, until I am staring at a tiny vision._

_ No. No longer a vision. _

_A painting. _

_I look around and find that I am surrounded by darkness. One by one, hidden torches flicker to life with their dim fire. It is a small, circular room, and I am alone. I watch the painting, staring at my friends frozen in a moment. It is impossible to touch them, though I reach out desperately._

_And then a hand appears. Reaching through the painting, a disembodied hand takes mine. I try to cry out, but I am mute in this place. A body follows the hand, and although it has stepped out of the tiny painting, it is larger than I. Then the face of the body reveals itself, and I feel the burning gaze of the Fire Lord on my face._

_ I try to pull away, but he holds me fast. My instinct to run is overridden, and despite myself I stay in place. The Fire Lord, his appearance unusually gentle, hushes me, and reaching out his other hand, he touches my forehead._

_ I am immediately assaulted by a barrage of images: Ambassador Ri holding half of my brother's boomerang, a set of broken iron chains rusting away in the rain, the Fire Lord disappearing down a corridor without light, Master Jhou standing over me with a grim expression and a long dagger… _

_ I am overcome with terror and begin to scream, silently. _

My eyes open slowly, and I am greeted by a blurry haze of world, which forces me to clamp my eyelids down. My head pounds briefly and I peek through a tiny slit. Everything above me is fuzzy and grey, and when I try to move every muscle in my body protests.

"Hey."

My eyes fly open, despite the pain, and my neck turns with a rather unfortunate and resounding crack. I blink rapidly, trying to clear my vision before the voice comes any closer, to find out who it is. But the blinking disorients me even further, and I'm forced to stop, my headache renewed.

"Please, relax," the figure says gently. "All this shifting and twitching won't do you any good. Just stay calm, everything is alright now."

I know that voice and exhale slowly. It isn't the Fire Lord. It's Ayza.

I focus on my body, and realize I am lying down somewhere. Likely the infirmary, as Ayza is the one talking to me, and after all, where else would I be flat on my back?

"Here." My indistinct vision tells me that Ayza is coming closer. She puts a hand on my back, and helps prop me up into a semi-sitting position. I groan in discomfort but inwardly I'm thrilled to hear myself make any sort of sound. After that strange dream, it is comforting to know that it is still my choice not to make use of my voice.

My vision begins to clear, until little patches of fuzz are all that impede my sight. "Would you like something to drink?" she asks, holding out a cup. I nod weakly and she tilts my head forward, allowing me to sip. It's water, and I'm momentarily surprised she dares to let a waterbender near it. But I know that I am currently too baffled to be of any use fighting, and she knows that I've no reason to kill her, and therefore won't. "Drink slowly," Ayza advises. "It seems the audience was a bit much for you."

I gulp nervously, but thankfully it only seems like I'm drinking. I hope with all my soul they haven't made the connection between the symbol and my brother, but I can't imagine the Fire Lord didn't detect it. His demanding the prisoners be brought directly to the Fire Nation certainly indicated his recognition. And now that he's acting so strangely, clearly doing something as noticeable as fainting at an obvious sign of my brother's rebellion… oh no, no, no. The Fire Lord will assume that I know something I couldn't possibly… he'll go back to torturing me… and he'll kill Sokka... and this time I'll die too…

"Woah!" Ayza rushes over from whatever she's doing and holds me steady. "Breathe, Katara. We can't have you fainting again." She puts a cool cloth to my forehead and wipes away the nervous sweat. "You'd think they'd get rid of that damn thing," she mutters to herself. "Honestly, tradition may induce a great number of feelings, but suffocation needn't be one of them!" She dabs a bit at my cheeks, before replacing the cloth. "You're not the first Fire Lady to faint behind the viewing screen. Not," she adds quickly, "that you are a Fire Lady, but after all, you know, um, it was originally intended for them, and, um… right," she finishes awkwardly.

I push myself farther up, my vision finally cleared now that my panic has subsided. Despite her odd blundering, Ayza has given me the information I need. The Fire Lord assumes that I was nearly smothered by the confining area of the viewing screen, not that I fainted due to anything that occurred during the audience. I sigh in relief and remove the cloth from my head, slowly beginning get off the bed.

"Hold on, impatient girl," Ayza chastises me, putting her arm around my waist to help me stand. My feet touch the ground, and I almost stumble, my legs feeling like liquid. "And that," she says with a grunt, hoisting me up, "is why you need to wait a minute before jumping about." She allows me to move my feet a little, and my legs strengthen through my staggering.

"Come on." She helps me start walking at a more regular pace. "We have to get you back to the Fire Lord's apartments. I doubt he's finished the audience yet – the Earth Kingdom ambassador tends to be… verbose." She looks at my questioning face and answers without my asking. "Word travels around this place. I have a good friend among the guards." She eyes me, a shrewdness hidden beneath her gentle gaze. "I hear things. Just the way anyone would."

I school my face into indifference, but I'm beginning to wonder what she knows that I don't. She's hit exactly my most valuable asset – my silence. Everyone ignores the mute servant girl; it is the easiest method of obtaining information. Between my status as garbage and my silence, I become the most harmless of creatures. And no one needs to know any differently – especially not the Fire Lord's healer. I shuffle along diligently, giving no sign that I've understood her insinuation.

"You know, it strikes me," she begins, switching easily to a less formidable topic as we enter the maze of corridors, "how exclusive the Fire Nation can be. You may be the only waterbender I've ever met." Her eyes flicker to my face and her forehead creases. "No. I don't suppose that's quite true. There was one other." Her studious gaze disappears and is replaced by a pensive expression.

"I must have been seven at the time; this was before I went off to school, of course. I mentioned that we lived by a seaport, yes?" She looks for my recognition, and I nod. "I used to watch the ships come in and out of the harbor at noontime." She smiles to herself. "It's one of my earlier memories. I loved watching the differently colored flags go by."

I smile a bit as well. Growing up in the Southern Water Tribes taught one plenty about shipping and sailing, and what were 'pretty colors' to Ayza as a child, to me were symbols and signals. Oh. My stomach twists at the thought of symbols, and I go back to listening to Ayza, which is a far less frightening endeavor.

"I was down at the shoreline for an afternoon with my nursemaid. Ask me what a seven-year-old needs a nurse for," she sayss rhetorically. "Well, I wasn't interested in having someone tail me about. I gave her the slip near the fishmongers' stands and hurried down to the ships. I wanted to explore one particular vessel with blue flags. I'd never seen any pennants that color before – I didn't know it was Water Tribe insignia back then.

"I was sneaking around near the ship, looking for an inconspicuous way to board. I mean, I couldn't exactly walk up the gangplank, could I? But it didn't really matter, because I got caught trying to use one of the ropes hanging over the side anyway. I'd just started to climb when I heard a man's voice, yelling at me to get down if I valued my skin."

I smile. Leave it to Water Tribesmen to think of everything in terms of skins.

"He wasn't very pleased, as you can imagine," Ayza continued, helping me around a corner. "But he softened up when he saw that I was young and a girl. Is that usual?" She interrupts herself. "Are there gender biases in the Water Tribes, towards the more traditional female roles? Do they treat girls as more delicate and fragile than boys?"

I move my hand in a 'sort-of' gesture and make a face that I hope says yes and no at the same time.

Luckily Ayza understands, because she nods vigorously. "The Fire Nation has the same mindset. Amazing how two such different places can believe the basic principles." She is quiet for just a minute, and returns to her tale in due course. "Well, digressions aside, I climbed off the ship and asked him who he was and where he had gotten flags in such a marvelous color.

"He told me his name was Koa, and that blue was the color representing the Water Tribes. As this reveals, my knowledge of water cultures was highly limited; I didn't even know enough to ask whether he came from North or South. But I was curious, as I suppose all children are, and I asked him about his home. Watch your step," she says, supporting me over an uneven bit of flooring.

"I sat down on an upturned barrel, and Koa began explaining. He told me that it was very cold where he lived, and that people went around wearing animal skins most of the year. As a Fire Nation child these notions were so foreign to me that it sounded more like an odd tale than reality." She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear with her free hand.

"But what struck me most was when he showed me waterbending. Nothing that would seem spectacular to a master, or even a moderately good bender, but I was amazed by it. I remember very clearly him telling me, 'I come from a place where water dances'. I didn't understand what he meant, and asked him to show me. He glanced around furtively and told me to watch the sea. With a motion like this," Ayza demonstrates, "the water began to rise, just a few feet. He intently pulled a little from the ocean and spun it in the air, twisting it into the shape of a jumping fish."

She pauses, picturing it, and I too can see it in my mind's eye. It isn't a difficult trick, but to a child closeted away in the Fire Nation, I can understand the appeal. Water is a very singular element, and the bending style is radically different than that required for firebending, more fluid and gentle.

"Smiling at me, he replaced the water in the ocean just as my accursed nursemaid rounded the bend and spotted me. She started shrieking my name, and I turned around, leaping off the barrel. She was rather unhappy with me, and forcefully took my hand, dragging me away." Ayza stops, now that we've reached our destination. "That was the last I saw of Koa. When I glanced over my shoulder, he was gone."

I've no idea how she times her stories so well, but we are standing in front of the door to the Fire Lord's chambers. I've barely noticed the walk at all. I nod to her, in thanks for reviving me.

"I do remember only one more thing from our conversation," she muses, speaking both to herself and me. "He showed me a hand motion, and told me it was a greeting amongst tribesmen. Like this." She holds her arms upright, bent at the elbow and parallel to each other. Then she waves them like two snakes across her body, so the backs of her hands touch. "Is that right?"

I feel the simultaneous urge to grin and cry. But I say nothing, and repeat the motion with a little more grace than she. Nodding again, I open the door to the Fire Lord's apartments, and smile.

I should have liked to know this Koa man. Although it is true that the sign is often used as a greeting and parting motion, it is far more significant than that. It is a signal used in both the Northern and Southern Tribes, a uniter of all waterfolk.

It is the tribesmen's sign of peace.

* * *

WD94: And thus ends chapter the tenth.


	11. Chapter 11

WiltingDaisies94: Hello everyone! First things first, thank you so much for all the reviews on chapter 10, I'm glad you thought it was interesting. It was definitely fun to write.

Now, two things I'd like to say:

1. I had a question in a review that I thought I should take a moment to address. Someone asked me, "what happens to sokka?"Well, I'm not going to tell you yet. I like to let my plotlines unfold in the time they're supposed to take to unfold. But, if you stick with me, I promise you will find out at the right time.

2. This is more like a question I'm foreseeing being asked, so I'm going to answer it now. I'm sure you've noticed I have a real affinity for OCs. In fact, this chapter will introduce yet another purely-imagined-by-me character. So please note: A) Not every single OC is super important - some of them are just there because Avatar has not invented some of the people/positions in my head. B) Likewise, some OCs are undoubtedly going to be extremely important to the plot - it's up to you to figure out which ones!

So, with that in mind, storytime. This chapter's a little shorter, but you'll probably see why it still took the same amount of time to write. I'm done now, promise. Go read!

* * *

Chapter 11

I sit in an elaborately carved chair beside the Fire Lord, watching his famished guests consume everything in sight, while I pick at my own meal. Suki once told me that traveling has a tendency to make Earth people hungry. Something to do with long distances and connection to the land… it had all sounded rather ridiculous at the time, more of an excuse to eat too much than anything else.

Tonight the Fire Lord is entertaining a relatively small crowd in one of the palace's private dining halls. It's mostly Ambassador Ri and his entourage, but there are also a few stray Fire nobles who are in the city for the summer months.

And me.

For the first time, I am sitting at a table beside the Fire Lord, being served dinner like a human being. I am not being treated like a slave, for indeed I have not been labeled as one. When I was brought into the dining hall and seated, Ambassador Ri shot an inquisitive look at the Fire Lord, who introduced me as Katara, his personal maid.

Maid. Not slave. Not worthless piece of waterbending scum. Maid. And as if that was not enough of an explanation, he proceeded to add that I was, "a mute, but an indispensible servant nonetheless".

"Mute?" Ambassador Ri had chuckled. "Yes, I do suppose that is the best sort of woman." The Fire Lord had given a rather noncommittal grunt and then leaned over to speak with one of his nobles.

But the ambassador clearly had more to say on the subject, for while conversing with the man on his right, I'd heard him hiss, "Strange customs they have here. Bringing the help to dinner? No, my friend. I'll be damned if that's his maid. She's too pretty, and look at how richly she's dressed! No. I'd bet you all of Ba Sing Se that she's his special 'dancing' girl. What fools does he take us for? Maid indeed!"

I twitch a little in my chair, dying to scratch my elbow. The outfit I'm wearing is not among my favorites. The skirt is a heavy maroon material with slits up to the knee and a pattern of embroidered white flowers along the bottom. The white top is a bit low for my taste, a V shape with a layered collar area. The sleeves just reach my elbows, but the lace at the edges is rubbing against my skin and itching like mad.

"Friends!" The Fire Lord stands and the room falls silent, excepting the occasional clatter of utensils. "As always it is the great pleasure of the Fire Nation to play host to our worthy allies the Earth Kingdom. In honor of their visit, we have sought out an entertainer who is often difficult to find, as it is not his predilection to stay in one place for very long. So," he says, signaling to the guards at the door, "we ask that you enjoy the story of this wandering taleteller, this master of fantasy – Yu Lin."

The door opens, and in comes a peculiar man, although I cannot place what about him seems so strange. He is dressed in a simple outfit of white and beige coloring, the sure sign of a wanderer. He looks about thirty-five, maybe a little older, but not yet forty. He is short for a man, with a lean build. On an average day in a market, I doubt I would even notice him, were it not for the strange…something…that hangs around him, in his movements if not his face or dress.

"Good evening," he says, not bowing to anyone. His voice is slightly high pitched and mellow, the way I imagine butter would talk. "Tonight I will tell you an old tale. Yes, it is quite ancient, I suppose. Well over five centuries old. But not much known for all its accumulated years. Old is good, sometimes." He looks about after making this strange pronouncement. "Bring my instrument, would you?"

A servant enters, bearing a rather complicated looking stringed instrument. The taleteller takes it with a gracious nod, and for a moment I have the distinct impression that it is his dining hall I am sitting in, not the Fire Lord's.

Yu Lin begins to tune his instrument, playing a short, recurring melody. He does not title the tale he plans to deliver, nor does he begin to speak. I watch him fiddle with some knobs at the far end of his instrument, and listen to his playing in the meantime. The melody floats, gentle and repetitive, like the lapping of waves against the seashore. I feel a strange mist settle in the room, and despite my curiosity in regards to the other's reactions, I cannot tear my eyes away from this strange man and his music.

Slowly, Yu Lin begins, his mouth shaping the first words of his telling.

_Days gone by conceal this tale,_

_When the mighty Sun courted_

_The bright, palely Moon_

_And men were_

_Of singular _

_Accord._

_One village made of goodly men_

_Was held in highest esteem_

_Then came that great_

_Foe of kindness,_

_Entitled only_

_Beast._

_Monster indeed the foul Beast was_

_Demanding, in return for peace,_

_One maiden a year_

_To devour as_

_His preferred _

_Feast._

_The horrified elders, with little choice,_

_Agreed to the animal's term, _

_And yearly sent one_

_Village girl in_

_His direction:_

_East._

_Such a grim burden to shoulder,_

_Weight carried for seven years,_

_But fear incites courage_

_In persons who_

_Wish cruelty_

_Ceased._

_A peasant girl, of proper age,_

_Begat of a poor smith,_

_Took up a sword,_

_Bottle and bowl_

_And her_

_Fear._

_Descending to the valley the first_

_Day of the new year,_

_She chanted a tune,_

_Of raindrops, and_

_Sadness, both_

_Clear._

_Approached she the lair, that the_

_Fiend did inhabit, and sat_

_At the entrance, filling_

_Her bowl with_

_Heavy wine's_

_Cheer._

_Out slithered the Beast, but paused_

_He a moment, asking roughly_

_Why the maid brought _

_Him drink, an _

_Action trite,_

_Dear._

_Though petrified by his ugly form,_

_The maiden held her ground,_

_Declaring the wine a_

_Sign of deference_

_For another_

_Year._

_Foolishly the Beast dove in and_

_Swallowed the wine with haste,_

_Promising to consume the_

_Maiden right after_

_He had _

_Done._

_But his powerful head ached, for_

_She had spiked the drink_

_With piya ahn leaves_

_Inducers of sleep,_

_Blockers of_

_Sun._

_Began she to sing for the Beast_

_Who slipped fast into slumber,_

_Then raised her sword,_

_And swiftly made_

_Two of _

_One._

_With head detached the Beast shrank_

_Away, leaving only a shape_

_In its terrible place_

_A young, and_

_Quite human_

_Son._

_He thanked the maid and died_

_Right then, in peace that_

_She had brought him._

_Knowing this was_

_Truly his_

_Reward._

The music continues, but the tale has ended, and I feel as if my eyes have just opened, though they've been rapt the entire time. Yu Lin is still plucking at the strings, that same repeating melody. The music changed during the storytelling, I remember, but it has been in my head all the while, the singular sound.

And suddenly it stops altogether. Yu Lin, who has been caressing his instrument, hunched over it as a parent or lover, ceases to play. The world changes, reverts to its normal state, and the fog in my mind is lifted. I no longer see the story happening before my eyes. The frightened village, the Beast's acrid smelling lair, the maid terrified of her task but without another way… all of it was clear as day. But now it fades along with the last reverberating notes in my head.

The dining hall returns, and as if stirring, the rest of Yu Lin's audience begins to move again, clearing throats and clapping. The polite applause resounds in the hall, giving the impression of many tens of people's praise and approval, rather than the meager number we amount to.

I am tempted to follow Yu Lin as he leaves the room, cradling his instrument close. I want to know where he heard this tale and why he has his instrument and how it works... so much that I will never discover otherwise. But the Fire Lord glares at me subtly, as if sensing my urge to rise, and I remain seated, staring after the master of fantasy.

He leaves through the same door he entered from, without saying a single word, and turns around briefly, throwing back a vague, omniscient smile. And though I cannot explain why, I am aware that everyone sitting at the table feels that simple, inscrutable smile is directed exclusively at them.

* * *

WD94: Tada! I've been looking for some sort of brief prose deviation, and this idea conveniently popped into my head. The poetry format is Minus 1 (each line is one word fewer than the line before it - I started with six as the maximum), and the last words have a rhyming pattern. The tale is based slightly on a story I read as a child that I believe is called The Serpent Slayer... don't quote me though.


	12. Chapter 12

WiltingDaisies94: Hi everybody! Chapter 12 is in. It's on the longer side, because I will be without my computer for most of this week and unable to get any writing done, so I figure I should give you something long to read before I go. Chapter 13 may take more than the usual 5-7 days to come out, be forewarned!

Now, time to address questions/comments: One in particular I've been asked is about the structure of my world - how does it differ from the canon ATLA world, where are all the characters/what happened to them, how have things changed since Zuko became Fire Lord, etc.

My response:

1. Some things I've already explained, such as the Earth Kingdom situation, and you should have a reasonable idea of what the Fire Nation is like. Additionally you know that Zuko, Katara, Aang, and Ty Lee are definitely around in various capacities.

2. Much of _this_ chapter will deal with another character's backstory in my universe.

3. What you don't know yet, you will find out at the proper time. It wouldn't be a very interesting story if I gave away where all the characters are right now. In fact, it would decimate my plot line entirely. So hold on and stay with me. If you still feel you don't understand all the relevant facts of my alternate universe as they pertain to the story by the time I'm done, feel free to ask away.

With that said, onwards! There is a perspective switch in the middle of this chapter from Katara to Zuko, as the line break indicates, so make sure you realize that, okay? Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 12

"I should have you know that I disapprove immensely of what the Ambassador said about you," he says softly, hesitatingly. The Fire Lord is stretched out across the bed, waiting for me to begin massaging him. "His comment was entirely out of order, and I am sorry he saw fit to voice such a vile sentiment."He glances over his shoulder at me, and his expression is almost…contrite? "Unfortunately, there is nothing I can do about his foul mindset, nor his monotonous droning."

I smile just a little bit, understanding the feeling exactly. But he doesn't know the half of how awful the Ambassador really is, as evidenced by his second comment, which the Fire Lord did not hear.

And yet, he is apologizing to me. The High and Mighty Fire Lord, apologizing to a slave? A waterbender? A peasant? And yet… I watch his expression, but he turns away, settling his face back against the pillows. He sounds sincere… perhaps even a bit…offended, on my behalf.

"Would you close the door?" the Fire Lord asks, not moving his head.

I move to comply, walking a bit more slowly than I should be, preoccupied by my thoughts. That wasn't an order. The Fire Lord _requested_ I shut the door. There was no demand in his imperial tone, no derogatory remark at the entd of his sentence, no mocking or taunting.

Why is he doing this? Trying to be nice to me, I don't understand. For the last few days, his entire personality has calmed down and scaled back, ever since that strange temper tantrum he had. I see what he's doing, but I don't comprehend the 'why' of the equation. Why is he changing his behavior? Why now? Why at all?

'_It's a trick.'_ The suspicious voice inside my head pipes up right then, cautioning me. '_Why would a man who has always been your greatest enemy, the destroyer of goodness, and a power hungry firebender suddenly begin to feel remorse for his actions towards you? And even in the unlikely event of that happening, you see how he indicates guilt? He finds you a new wardrobe, a cot to sleep in, and promotes you from slave-girl to maid. Oh yes, clearly he must be regretting your every discomfort.' _

'Perhaps it's all he can do,' I argue, surprising myself. 'I mean, it's not as though he can simply announce that he's going to set me free. It's only been two years since the Great War. I oppose the Fire Nation, and now that Sokka is out there somewhere… he can't afford a rebellion, and he knows it.'

'_So he's trying to do what? Make you comfortable? For what purpose? If he's so afraid of a rebellion, why doesn't he just kill you and have done with it all? There's an angle here and you can bet he's playing it.'_

I've reached the door and I slowly close it, feeling rather dazed. I am becoming less and less aware of my surroundings as I debate with myself. 'But guilt manifests in strange ways. As I think back, it really hasn't been for just the last few days. Even before, for several months his punishments,' (a part of my back that has unmistakable scarring quivers slightly at the thought), 'became more slack, disinterested. There was a certain disgust in his face. I could read it, but I didn't recognize it. And now, it's coming through. What other way does he have to apologize for such unforgivable actions?'

"The scented oils are in the drawer over there." The Fire Lord is talking to me again, confused by my contemplative state. "Be sure to bring one, Katara." He twists a bit on the bed and faces me. "Anything you like."

I nod mutely, and move to the drawer. Thankfully it's near the bed, or it would likely take me another five minutes of arguing with myself to get there. I pull it open and poke about, looking at what's available, and stalling while I ponder.

Anything _I _like?

The phrase suddenly hits me like a herd of moose-lions stampeding. He is giving me a _choice_. The ability to decide yes or no for myself, under no order or obligation. It doesn't matter that it's not an important decision – I'm sure he doesn't care if his massage oil is scented lavender or nutmeg – but I haven't had the right to make a choice, the right to 'voice' my opinion (oh great irony), in two years. The right of choosing is a sign of freedom.

But how could he – what's that?

I pick up the sandalwood and cinnamon scented oil, and am ready to close the drawer and take my spinning head with me back to the Fire Lord's bedside, but I pause, noticing something black and red hidden beneath the oil bottles.

* * *

I smile wickedly to myself. Finally. The poor peasant girl is completely at odds with herself about my doings. I can read the stress in her face, sense the hesitation and indecision. After all, no person in a tranquil state of mind takes that long to cross a room and close a door. She's troubled.

I've been choosing my words very carefully. Apologizing to her on behalf of the Ambassador (which thankfully is no difficult feat, considering the royal effort required to endure the monotonous litany accompanying his every visit) was the perfect hook, precisely the sort of repentant action to perplex her already befuddled brain. She won't know what to think – I'd wager she already doesn't.

And now it is time for the icing on top of the cake. I watch her rifle through the drawer, waiting for her to find the item I've planted. She seems to be searching without seeing, though, and I worry for a moment that she'll miss it completely. Fortunately she halts, with a bottle in her hand, and peers down into the drawer. She's discovered it.

She pulls it out gently, trying not to disturb anything. "Katara," I start, as if I have something to say, which I truthfully don't, but the affect is nice when I seem to halt abruptly. "What are you holding?" I ask.

She doesn't answer, and merely holds it up for my viewing pleasure. It's a black and red fan, trimmed with black lace, with a medium-sized red gem inlaid at the bottom. "Be careful," I command, tightening the tone of my voice. "Put it down slowly, and come here." It's the first order I've really given in days, but she has to believe I'm quite serious for this to work.

She obeys, gently maneuvering the fan back into the drawer and closing it slowly. Walking with a newfound attentiveness, she comes over to the bed and sits beside me, opening the oil bottle. She doesn't look at me, beginning my massage with as much indifference as she can muster.

Good. She's agitated now, and ready to listen. "Excuse my insistence," I say quietly, reverting to my gentler voice. "That fan – the reason I – why I spoke sharply – it is – was – that is, it used to – it used to belong to Mai."

I hear a quick intake of breath and instantly know she's interested. "It was a favorite weapon of hers, an especially destructive creation. The fan has retractable blades built into the slits and a spinning mechanism that gives it a perfect circular rotation. It can slice through a human jugular in four seconds." I sigh delicately. "That's why I couldn't allow you to hold it."

She understands now, and her hands soften in their rhythm against my back. The oil she chose has an enchanting smell, and she is a very talented masseuse. But I cannot pause to enjoy her ministrations yet, and press on, pouring dismay into my words as I speak. "I didn't send her away, you know," I murmur.

There's a lengthy silence after my pronouncement, and she halts her motions. "I'm aware of the rumors that fly about. It is my court after all." I gesture for her to continue, and she does, now looking at my back directly, all pretentions of disinterest gone. "They speculate that I banished her, or forced her out of the palace. Some nobles even whisper that I had her killed."

Her hands brush a knot in my left shoulder and I wince a bit as she begins to work it out. "But none of them have ever guessed the truth. Which I suppose," I say, giving a sardonic laugh, "is what she would have wanted.

"It happened during the Great War. Mai was battling that earthbending friend of yours in the large dining hall in the southeast corner of the palace." I'm very careful to keep contempt out of my voice as I recall the little earthbending brat. "They'd been at it for a while, and both were bloody. Mai was fighting well, despite the injury she'd sustained in her leg. She had the earthbender pinned to a wall, and was just about to…" I trail off, mostly because I imagine the term 'eviscerate' won't go over very well with Katara, but if she believes I've stopped because the subject matter is painful, that doesn't hinder me either.

"Anyway," I continue, "the earthbender waited for Mai to get just close enough, and then," I swallow involuntarily, "she slammed her head against the wall behind her. The southeastern dining hall," I supplement, "is made primarily of stone. The entire wall began crumbling, and the weapons holding the earthbender in place faltered under the pressure. She freed herself, and sent a shower of sharp stones down from the ceiling, directed at Mai."

The girl's hands are soothing on my back, but I frown, not understanding why I feel the need to be calmed. Why is telling this truth so difficult? "Mai dodged, of course, mostly successfully. But the earthbender wasn't trying to hit her, as Mai she realized too late. Your friend trapped Mai in a corner of the room, and then smashed her head between two rocks she'd pulled out of the wall. She rained down stones on Mia's unconscious body, and then left her there to die.

"After the war was over I went to find her. She was in the infirmary. Ty Lee had managed to pull her out of the rock pile before she'd suffocated." I shiver slightly, suddenly cold. "Mai was still alive, but the damage was done. Her face was mangled from the beating, her head bandaged, her shoulder dislocated, and the leg wound ensured she would have a limp for the rest of her life."

I pause, and am surprised to hear the hurt in my voice. "She felt herself ruined, deformed. She told me (through a screen, as she refused to be seen by me more than once) that she wished to leave the palace; she could not bear to stay and be pitied." I arch against Katara's hands as she hits a sensitive area of my back, and she quickly retreats. "She asked to go to one of the monasteries. As you know, the Fire Nation made the Air Temple monasteries into neutral territory for religious followers of every nation. Mai knew that no one from her life in the Fire Nation would find her there." I sigh heavily, feeling rather depressed. "I couldn't refuse her. I never could."

I'm so wrapped up in reliving the experience of Mai's departure, that I hardly notice Katara's hands have stopped moving, and that one is resting lightly on my shoulder. I turn my head and glance up at her. Her gaze is one of sympathy, and I stare back at her helplessly. For a moment, we are just two people who have lost loved ones for terrible reasons.

"Ehm," I cough, turning over and sitting up. She springs off the bed like a startled bird and reaches for the oil bottle, replacing the stopper. "You're dismissed for the night, Katara. Go."

She leaves the bottle on the bedside table and nods, rushing off into the bathroom and shutting the door without a backwards glance.

I groan and stretch. How did that just happen? One minute I'm scheming and manipulating, and the next I'm melting into a puddle over Mai and taking comfort from Katara. No! The water peasant. I curse to myself, standing up and pulling on a light overshirt.

I am suddenly very much in the mood for a serious round of target practice.

* * *

WD94: Oh boy. Wow. I like my Toph kinda badass, no?

So, I hope that clears a few things up for everyone. See you all in a week or two!


	13. Chapter 13

WiltingDaisies94: And I'm back! So this chapter's taken a while to finish writing, but I warned you I'd be out of the loop for a bit. I hope you're still motivated enough to continue with me and my complex little world.

Anyway, here it is. Plot movement ahoy! :)

* * *

Chapter 13

I walk silently, following several paces behind the servant who is acting as my guide. He does not speak to me, allowing our journey to remain one of contemplation. Perhaps it is not his nature to be talkative. Perhaps he does not consider me worth talking to. Or perhaps he's been warned what a poor conversationalist I am.

Whatever the reason, our only communication thus far occurred when he first came to fetch me this morning. He taciturnly informed me that I had been requested to help in Mistress Ty Lee's apartments, and that he would escort me there. He did not explain what I was requested for (merely beckoning me with a hand) and then proceeded to march swiftly out of the Fire Lord's chamber.

What does she want me for? I have a sudden nightmare version of folding clothing, endless mountains of skirts and tops stretching as far as the eye can see. I imagine Ty Lee's chambers reaching into infinity, an endless pink wormhole filled with clothes. I flinch involuntarily and shake my head, trying to clear the picture.

Instead, I concentrate on trying to follow the path the servant is taking. This is the second time I have been taken to Ty Lee's apartments, and hopefully some of the way will look familiar. Most of the hallways are still indistinguishable from a hundred others, but I begin to keep track in my head…left turn…straight through the next two corridors…another left turn….then a right…straight again…

It's an unfortunately long walk, and I lose count a quarter of the way through. After that, I am in the unusual position of traveling with someone just as silent as I am. When in the presence of others, it's more usual for me to be talked at than for a mutual quiet to reign. And I now I think have an inkling why – it's entirely too awkward otherwise.

I'm almost glad when we reach Ty Lee's apartments. The silent servant opens the door and ushers me inside. "Mistress," he calls rather impatiently, seemingly agitated by the empty front room. "I've brought the girl."

There's a bit of clattering and thumping before Ty Lee emerges from another room, tying off the end of her famous braid. "What is it?" she asks, eyeing the two of us with distaste, her tone snappish.

"The girl is here. As you requested, Mistress," he answers, giving a short, punctuating bow.

Ty Lee frowns, not sparing a glance in my direction. "What are you talking about?"

He is taken aback, but a split second later his frown mimics hers. "I was ordered to bring the Fire Lord's slave girl to your apartments. I was told you requested her help."

Ty Lee's frown deepens. "I asked for no such thing."

There's an uncomfortable pause, and the two of them are suddenly both glaring at me. I am tempted to roll my eyes, but I content myself with a shrug and a shake of my head. I'm no more in the loop than they are.

Tossing her braid over her shoulder, Ty Lee places her hands on her hips. "I don't know where this mistaken idea came from, but whoever set this up will have some answering to do for their actions. Take her back." She waves her hand in irritated dismissal. "I did not call for her."

"No, but I did, Mistress."

I recognize the gravelly voice immediately. Master Jhou joins us, appearing from a dim hallway, plodding along with his awkward gait. He wears the same grim expression I last saw him with, and I recollect my dream, with him standing over me, ready to slice open my throat.

"You?" Ty Lee is perplexed and dissatisfied. "You asked for her?" She jabs a thumb in my direction.

"Yes, Mistress." Master Jhou bows humbly, his hands neatly tucked into his long sleeves. "I believe she will be of use to me. As I age, I am afraid my eyes grow weary, and reading through your accounts becomes more difficult. She's young yet, and harmless. You girl," he says to me, looking at me and through me at once, "you can count, can't you?"

I nod.

"There you have it." Master Jhou raises his eyebrows. "She will be able to keep track of your accounts with fewer mistakes than I. Truthfully, I have no doubt I can find a thousand little things for her to do – fetching and carrying, the like. Unless," he adds with a slight shift in his stance, casting his eyes downwards, "you object, Mistress."

The act is good, but Ty Lee is still perturbed. "Why must it be her?" she asks, her tone verging on whining.

"It is entirely a matter of convenience, Mistress." His voice changes and he is suddenly brisk and businesslike. "The maids are too busy to be bothered with the inabilities of an old man like myself. This girl has nothing to do during the daylight hours; I see no reason why I should not borrow her. With your permission, of course." He beats a hasty retreat back to politeness.

Ty Lee eyes him for a moment, eyebrows raised. Silence reigns in the room as the four of us stand about, waiting on her decision. "Very well," she answers slowly, her affect returning to disinterest. Her suspicion recedes. "As you wish. She is yours for the time the Fire Lord bids you keep her." With that pronouncement Ty Lee turns, her long braid swishing behind her, and walks back into the room she came from.

Once Ty Lee is gone the servant dismisses himself without hesitation, dutifully leaving the apartments with a sour expression and his back ramrod straight.

I cannot say I am sorry to see either of them go. I turn to face Master Jhou and the prospect of adding and subtracting numbers for the next several hours. Somehow I can't see Ty Lee being a light spender, especially after the tour through her closet. No, that's not true. Her 'backup' closet.

"Come, girl," Master Jhou beckons with a crook of his finger, his face unchangingly sinister. "We have work to attend to." He leads me through the back of the apartments.

The place is like a maze within itself. Ty Lee lives in a conglomeration of several large suites. Unlike the hallways of the palace, each is styled differently, but at the same time there is simply so much space that it is difficult to keep one's bearings. My eyes are trained on Master Jhou's back, the lopsided motion that is his walk; it is too easy to get lost otherwise.

Towards the back (or what I perceive to be the back) of this catacomb, Master Jhou glances furtively around, and with a quick pull of his hand, ushers me behind a tapestry. Everything is suddenly dark and I feel him push me upwards by the waist into an unknown space.

I wriggle in protest, suddenly frightened. "Hold still," he commands me in a whisper, setting me down on a surface made of stone. "You are in no danger. But you must be silent. These tunnels are not known to the Mistress Ty Lee, and you will find that it is in your interest to keep them that way."

I say nothing, trying to see in the darkness, pulling myself to my feet. We are in a dark space, a circularly carved route made entirely of stone, where no torch burns. "Here." A hand gropes at my upper arm and I recoil, instantly reminded of my dream for the second time. "Take my hand," Master Jhou hisses at me. "You'll not find a way in this blackness without a guide."

Waterbenders see well in the night, but even my eyes cannot penetrate this darkness. I grasp his hand and he leads me steadily on. "The young," he whispers, "are exceedingly persuaded by the deformities of the old. There is great advantage in being the doddering old man, even if it is a waste of my energy. Be careful," he warns. "Here the tunnel slopes upwards."

My feet follow his, but my mind races unconventionally. What is this man talking about? He feeds Ty Lee some nonsense about accounts and now he whisks me away into a dark cave where I must remain silent? And Ty Lee has no idea that I'm here… no one does…

My heart joins my head in the marathon, hurrying to catch up. I put very little store in dreams, but this one was too vivid, too precise…and Master Jhou's dagger was so real… so menacing. No. My instincts kick in. He's trying to kill me. My dream was a warning. I begin to struggle, tugging away from his hand, severing our contact. He wants me dead….dead…no.

"What are you doing?" he hisses, and I feel his voice close to me.

Run. My first and only thought. I can't fight him, I can't even find him! No, run, run, get out of this evil place! But where to go? I can see nothing, feel nothing but the stone surrounding me.

"Girl," his voice calls for me, suddenly soft. "Don't do this. You've waited too long for this. You must come with me." He chuckles a bit ominously. "I'm afraid you have very little choice. You see, this tunnel branches off. Take one wrong turn down a passage you can't even see… and you're gone, girl. Now come."

I'm terrified, and if he was shooting for comforting with that little speech he missed the target by a wide margin. I breathe in sharply, unable to move despite my panic.

"You must trust me, Katara."

My name. Said in that gravelly, unappealing voice, but it is my name nonetheless. I cannot explain, but it calms me momentarily. That's all it is – just a moment – but it is enough. He finds my hand and takes it again.

"This way."

I tremble slightly, hoping he can't feel it through my hand, and force my feet to step forward. No. I'm being foolish. Dreams are only the uncontrolled mind acting out fears and hopes. Whatever we cannot face in our waking hours, our dreams tackle for us. I try to slow my heartbeat, rationalizing with my terror. Why would Master Jhou want to kill me? What does he stand to gain?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Being in the Fire Lord's control has damaged my ability to trust, overridden some of my level-headedness. I am not in danger from this old man. I am a waterbender. A chief's daughter. He cannot hurt me.

My fear slowly fades into curiosity. Where is he taking me? My feet tred the path, but they do not know where it leads. What lives at the end of this unfurling darkness? What is Master Jhou trying to hide?

"Here." He speaks in a quiet voice, just above a whisper. "I must drop your hand for a moment. We have reached our destination." He lets go of me. "Do not move. It would be a pity to lose you now."

I stand steadfastly in place, listening intently to his shifting about. I hear shuffling and a bit of whispering, a grunt of annoyance, and then silence.

"Step forward."

I hesitate, unsure.

Master Jhou speaks, his voice calm and measured. "It all begins again, girl. Right now. Step forward if you choose. But be prepared, for when you do so, the future will greet you."

I am quiet. Even my breath is unheard. The tunnel resounds with silence.

So much so, that even the slightest tap of my foot against the stone as I move forward resonates indefinitely.

"Well chosen, waterbender."

I hear a click and then shifting, the sound of wheels turning and bolts unlocking.

"Welcome back."

* * *

WD94: GAH cliffhanger! I couldn't resist, but you all know you want to find out what happens next...


	14. Chapter 14

WiltingDaisies94: Welcome back, everyone! Last time I left you with a cliffhanger, and you all responded very well and so quickly. With such encouragement, how could I not write you the next chapter in a decent amount of time? Now that you've waited eleven days, here it is.

There's lots of information in this chapter, so watch the details, they're important. Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 14

With the sound of a hundred stones grinding together, an opening appears in the wall. A ray of sunlight enters, shattering the blackness, and is quickly followed by ten or twenty dancing companions. The end of the tunnel has shifted aside, leaving an open space about twice my width, leading into the world.

Master Jhou beckons, the light silhouetting him darkly, and I can only see half of his face as he glances over his shoulder at me. I shield my eyes as he moves aside. The sunlight burns, and my eyes fill with tears, stinging at the brightness. I haven't seen the outside world, smelled fresh air or felt sunshine on my face since I arrived at the palace after the War.

I follow Master Jhou like a sleepwalker, hardly trusting my legs to keep walking. My mouth hangs open and I blink my eyes ferociously, oblivious to the tears running down my cheeks.

"Walk with me," Master Jhou says, hardly noticing my discomfort. "This place is my project. No one will disturb us here."

My mind is busy trying to take in everything at once. We're in a garden of some sort, an enclosed space with trees and healthy grass stretching out before us. Two large buildings made of glass stand in the center of the place, but I cannot see what is inside. The glass is steamed up, and though the sunlight seems to enter, what resides in the strange structure is unrecognizable.

"This garden belongs to me. It is my secret, and now yours as well. You are the only other eyes who have seen this place, and know how to reach it." He chuckles, and the sound is much lighter than before. "Perhaps that isn't true. I doubt that you could find your way back by yourself. But nonetheless, you know of this garden now, and that is more than most can boast."

My head and eyes are still reeling from everything, and I stare in wonder, too awed to even look at him speculatively.

Accordingly, Master Jhou talks on, way ahead of me. "When I was first given to Mistress Ty Lee – or I should say, she was thrust upon me – the ignorant girl assigned me to an odd little task. She wanted her own scents for making perfume, using flowers and plants that are not indigenous to the Fire Nation. Without elaboration, she wanted me to make that happen. I agreed, provided the endeavor be left entirely in my hands. Mistress Ty Lee is a very trusting soul. She's never asked where I grow her special scents.

"As one might imagine," he continues, walking me across the broad expanse of space, "the Fire Lord's palace has changed over the decades. Rooms have been shifted, opened and closed, built, rebuilt and destroyed; it's quite a bit to follow. Fortunately, I've had plenty of time to keep track of it, what with Fire Lords coming and going every thirty years or so. This space belonged to Fire Lord Zuko's great-aunt, the widowed Fire Princess Eyya.

"Come." We reach one of the glass buildings, and he pulls at some unseen handle. A door appears out of the fog. "Inside, if you please. Now these holding spaces are called _akayo rai_ – plant houses. This is where I grow the more exotic plants for Mistress Ty Lee. Did you know that both the Air Temples and Earth Kingdom have higher temperatured climates than parts of the Fire Nation?

"But heat alone is not enough to create such thick fog. You see, I chose this spot for more than one reason. Yes, it was important the place be isolated, but the Fire Princess Eyya had a little addition to her garden. Can you guess what that might be?"

I'm standing inside, and the fog is thick, almost to the point of being oppressive. I can't see Master Jhou anymore, but his voice wraps around me. I raise my hand into the air and close my fingers. Silently my lips form one word: water.

"As you might have guessed, there is water here. That's right. Actual, physical, flowing water. The Fire Princess requested the addition of a stream to her garden, and it was built. Underground. It surfaces briefly, right here, and then disappears again."

I feel his hand encircle my wrist, and his fingers are wet. "This way, girl." He leads me through the steam. "Bend down." He guides me to the ground and stretches out my hand.

My fingers slide through the surface and I shudder, feeling the fresh water wash over me. I flick my hand and the water jumps excitedly, flipping into the air with joy, splashing me and the glass enclosure. I am hit with the happiness of a bender in their element, and I eagerly add my other hand to the stream, pulling at the water. It joins me, overflowing the banks and shooting all around the plant house, spraying the windows and clearing the fog away.

I stand and spin, drawing the water around me in a coil. I twist my wrists and it flies free, dancing around me in speckles and flecks. My spirit glows and wings along with the water, freedom ringing in my head. Without realizing it I'm laughing, nearly hysterically, and moving the water through the air, splashing everything around. It's bliss, absolutely perfect.

And then, almost involuntarily, I form my water whip. It lashes out, smashing ceramic pots to the floor and pulling legs out from under tables. I hear the crashing and, though it shocks me, I cannot bring myself to be bothered. The destruction is natural, eminent, inevitable. Why should I not destroy the place? A madness overtakes my hands and I cannot stop them from moving. My whip takes on a life of its own, thrashing about like a wild animal.

"Master Bender Katara," Master Jhou speaks, his voice rising in anger, "be still. You are being overrun by your abilities. Restrain this chaos at once and regain your element." With the fog cleared, I can see his face twisted with impatience as I flit by, spinning. "Hold on to your power."

I hear him over the rush in my ears, through some slight chance, yet my hands remain unconvinced. My whip reaches out and tears apart a collection of gardening tools, which clatter unceremoniously to the floor. It is not what I desire, but I have no way to cease my actions, until I hear Master Jhou roaring.

"CONTROL YOURSELF!"

My eyes open widely and I jerk my hands back down to my sides. My water whip wriggles in the air uncomfortably, as if sensing my confusion. I clench my fists, gritting my teeth in an attempt to calm my water. It resists, wanting to go free and destroy at will. After two years of confinement, it has gained a vendetta and will of its own and cannot be easily bottled.

Slowly it shrinks back, quivering in discontent. I wave my hands, shaking with the effort to replace the water. I bend my hands, keeping them together, for fear that the water should overpower them separately. Surely enough the water struggles, but with patience and extraordinary willpower, I manage to return it. I nearly collapse afterwards, my legs shaking beneath me.

Master Jhou approaches me, looking altogether displeased. "Disappointing, Master Bender. Highly disappointing." He clenches down on the word 'master', and the sound is derisive at best.

I stare down at my deviant hands, shaking. I'd never expected such a violent reaction from my ignored bending. I fall to my knees, unable to support my own weight on my legs. I glare upwards at Master Jhou, asking why with only my eyes.

"I did not bring you here to splash around in a stream, young bender, nor to allow you to destroy my garden. Should you only be capable of such conduct, I can assure you that tomorrow you will wake up with an extraordinarily unpleasant headache and no memory of today. Now, if you have collected yourself sufficiently, stand. If not, our business here is finished."

I watch him from the floor, heeding his warning. If I don't stand up and cooperate, I have no chance of understanding what he brought me to this place for. I put my hands on the ground in front of me, and drag my legs underneath me, until I am standing upright once more, though I am shaking from the effort.

"Master Bender," he begins, observing me as a bird of prey eyes its next meal, "it cannot have escaped your notice that you have been greatly weakened by the Fire Lord's imprisonment. Your powers have been locked away too long, and without practice and honing, they have slipped under the control of your emotions, rather than your rationality. That is why your water escaped you only moments ago. Your control is no longer the primary driving force behind your bending. And that makes you vulnerable.

"Now, I did not bring you here to dally with flowers. Ty Lee may be a fool, but you, young waterbender, are not. You've been wary of me from our very first meeting, and not without cause. Before you stands a man of many facets, most of which you have yet to discover." He smiles, his face softening somewhat. "And I have not intention of explaining everything to you. There is much about me you are not ready to know."

I quirk my eyebrows, trying to take in all this information at once and catch up with my racing thoughts. He laughs at me. "It's not that I'm not ready to explain, girl. No. Rather, I cannot tell you yet, because you do not trust me. Nor do you have a reason to do so." His face becomes suddenly serious. "But you will come to trust me. I promise you that. However, for now, my job lies elsewhere."

Master Jhou walks away from me, pushing aside debris from cracked pots and broken tables. Before I know it, he is at the other end of the plant house, and there is a clear pathway between him and me. I hold myself still, calming my body with deep breaths, wondering what this crazy man is trying to do with me.

"Master Katara, I am neither your friend nor your enemy. It is not my task to be either of those things to you. I am here as a mentor, a tutor and guide. I am going to train you again, waterbender, for you desperately need it." His gaze is piercing. "Consider. A secret, secluded space. A running source of water. A master teacher."

My jaw drops. This old man, a servant of the Fire Lord for decades, looking to train me? I don't believe it. Not a word of what he says. Why would he want me physically able? For what purpose? And what makes him think he could teach me anything, an elderly man like him? If I can't control my own bending, what makes him think he can, him, a non-bender! I shake my head ferociously.

"Ah," he chuckles at me, and I could almost let loose my whip again. "You don't believe me capable of training you. Admirable hubris you've acquired, waterbender, but you should know better than to trust appearances." With a motion of his arm, Master Jhou flings aside the baggy outer robe he wears, revealing a freakishly strong torso covered with scars. "Now," he says, as my eyes drop out of my sockets and land somewhere on the ground, "shall we begin?"

With a repositioning of his body, Master Jhou twists his hands in a circle and strikes the ground with his left foot. The sound resonates, and before I have a chance to react, a boulder of earth is flying directly at me, speeding towards my shocked and paralyzed body.

* * *

WD94: And this is _exactly_ why I like OCs so darn much, you never know what to expect from them. I don't like asking for reviews (I mean, if you have something to say, you'll review, that's how it goes), but I'd love to hear your thoughts on my delicious plot twists!

Additionally, take note that I differentiate between fresh, flowing water, and still water. If you remember earlier, Katara bends bathwater off of Zuko without trouble. That's because still water is in itself a controlled source of water, whereas flowing water is 'free', it's nature is different.


	15. Chapter 15

WiltingDaisies94: Chapter 15! Another milestone in actually getting this story fully written! Thank you to all of my lovely readers for coming along for the ride, and to all my reviewers who take the time to tell me what they think and encourage me to keep going. You guys make the writing and editing and the general banging of my head against a brick wall worth it.

Having said that, shop talk matters first. Daveshan asked a good question - "How do you pronounce Master Jhou's name?" Well, I think of it as a French 'j' (soft), with the 'h' barely vocalized and the "ou" making an "oo" sound.

Now for the fun part. This chapter I am dedicating to a wonderful reader/reviewer. **Daveshan**, this one goes to you. I enjoy reading your reviews, and I love that you're not afraid to question me about my world or guess at my plot twists. In addition to being the 15th, and therefore important, I thought this chapter would suit you. Be prepared for explanations of the past, my friend. :)

Go forth and enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 15

"_They can never know, Zuko."_

_I stand in the Avatar's dungeon, across from the glowing enclosure. The Avatar sits as if floating, legs crossed as if meditating, and his cool gaze stares calmly through his crystal encasing and into my face. "You know that, don't you?"_

_ I ball my fists and look around nervously. Why is this happening? _

_ "It torments you, Fire Lord."_

_ I flinch at the title, which grazes my ears with jagged edges. The Avatar smiles, a mocking, jeering grin. Although his mouth is the only part of him that is mobile, his whole pose radiates movement. _

_ No. This can't be right._

_ "No!" I yell. "I demand you stop this trickery."_

_ "Trickery? You accuse a boy trapped in a bubble of trickery? Perhaps you sustained more cerebral injuries from the war than you were aware of." The Avatar's mouth twists downward. _

_ "You, you cannot speak," I say, flustered, rushing at the crystal, feeling the facets for cracks. "You are a prisoner, my prisoner. I command you, cease!"_

_ When I look up next, I am back where I started, across from the Avatar, who is clucking his tongue at me. "Tsk, tsk, Fire Lord Zuko. Prisoner is such a harsh word, don't you think? And calling me your prisoner…?" The Avatar's head begins to rotate, spinning in a half-circle, until his chin is where his forehead used to be. "Well, that simply isn't true, is it?"_

_ "Stop!" I shout. "Stop moving!"_

_ The Avatar smirks nastily, an expression I've never seen before. "If you wish me to halt my movements, I suggest you enforce the rule yourself." With a flash of his teeth, the Avatar's eyeballs roll out of their sockets and his nose slowly crumbles down his forehead, disappearing entirely. _

_ "No!" I cover my face with my hands, shaking. "NO! You ugly little cretin, I demand you stop! In the name of the Fire Nation, and by order of the Fire Lord, end this trickery, you evil demon!" I can't express myself with action. Every instinct that would tell me to fight has been shut down, obliterated. I close my eyes against my palms, and shudder in terror._

_ "Fire Lord?" The Avatar's voice hisses in my ear, and I look up into total darkness. "Fire Lord? Heeheeheehee," he cackles wickedly, his voice squealing impish delight. "Fire Lord who? Fire Lord ZUKO? Ahahahahaha! How ridiculous!"_

_ The emptiness is chilling, and I find my eyes closing again. I cannot bear the darkness in front of me, and I cower behind my eyelids._

_ "No, no, that's not right, is it? It's not Fire Lord Zuko. It's not supposed to be you at all! What's the matter, Zuzu? I suppose Mommy and Daddy played too many favorites when you were young? Daddy didn't really like you at all, did he? Nooooo. Not you. You were a terribly disappointing son."_

_ I try to run, clapping my hands over my ears like a small child. I cannot explain why, but all my courage has deserted me, and I am compelled to flee from that horrible, persistent, mocking little voice._

_ "So what was it, Zuzu? What made you snap? Were you upset that you had lost your advantage? After all, Daddy would have done anything for dearest, darling Mommy. But then Mommy died, huh? Ooooohhhh," the Avatar emits a faint moan of sadness. "And poof, faster than you can say Ba Sing Se, the sweet little princeling is out on his ass, and there's someone new pulling Daddy's strings."_

_ The ground underneath my feet falls away, and I tumble down into the thick darkness. My hand reaches for a support or savior that isn't there, and I try to contain the scream rising in my throat._

_ "She was pretty nasty, wasn't she? Really, let's be honest. She was a bitch. Especially to you. You'd always wanted her to be different, more human, right?" The Avatar chuckles. "You might've forgiven her if you could have dragged up one, single, solitary instance of kindness on her part. But there just wasn't one to be found. Aww, so sad. And so you did it, Zuzu. You took your chance, the only one you knew you'd get before she did exactly the same thing to you."_

_ I land with a thud, smack in the middle of what I think is a chair, and straps automatically tie themselves over my arms and around my ankles, pinning me down. A bright light appears in front of me, stretching out into a long rectangle. I squint, and begin to struggle._

_ "Now hold still, would you? This is the best part of the story!" The Avatar's chuckle morphs into a hideous, high-pitched laughter that is demented and distorted beyond all recognition._

_ The screen of light glows with memories, which roll like scenes from a play, pulling me back to the end of the Great War. Moments of battle emerge, and I lean away, trying to close my eyes to the fighting, but finding it impossible to do so._

_ "You see? Oh look at that, that's a lovely shot by Toph, look at that wall crumbling down on Mai's head! She has such fantastic artistry when it comes to her bending, don't you think? Let's see that again, more slowly, shall we?"_

_ "No-" I begin to protest, but a gag pops out of nowhere and ties around my mouth._

_ "Do hush, Zuzu, this next part is really cool."_

_ I watch the memories flicker, and I see Memory-me hiding behind a pillar, spying as my father and sister converge on the Avatar. He's putting up a hell of a fight, and matching their fire and lightning blow for blow. I follow Memory-me around the back of the next pillar, until I'm standing off to the right side of Azula's back. I can't see what she's doing, but my father gives her a nod, clearly a signal. _

_ "You see, Fire Royalty don't like to play fair, but at least when they play dirty, they rarely consider all the ways their plans could go wrong."_

_ With a shriek, Azula throws a vile of something into the air, and pierces it with a lightning strike, while my father pushes it forward with a wicked fire spiral. Simultaneously, the Avatar releases two jets of air, the larger of which repels and redirects my father's fire. The second stream of air skims low across the ground, and within a nanosecond a series of explosions go off. There are huge blasts, and then smoke everywhere, followed quickly by a painfully bright burst of white light._

_ Memory-me shields himself, ducking behind the pillar, gripping his eyes closed. The sound of debris hitting the ground and the rush of fallen fire fills the air. Memory-me waits, a minute, maybe more, before daring to look around._

_ "Now watch this. This I consider your glittering moment."_

_ Memory-me peers around the column. Lying dead on the ground is my father, his body fouled and mangled, having taken the full force of the explosives. Azula is shakily forcing herself onto her arms, trying to steady her lolling head. And the Avatar, Uniter of Countries, Master of the Elements, is trapped, frozen solid in a giant crystalline structure. _

_ Azula pulls herself to her feet, stumbling, and looks through her bloodstained bangs. She stares in awe at the Avatar, and for once is at a loss for words. It is as if even she can't believe that she's won. She staggers forward, hands raised in triumph, blind to her slaughtered father and the destruction around her. "HA!" she roars, spitting blood between her teeth. "HA! AHHHHH! AHAHAHHHHHHAAAAAA! AH-"_

_ She stops, mid-laugh, her face paused in an expression of delirious victory, and then, slowly crumbles to the ground, smoke rising from her chest. As she falls, Memory-me appears behind her, a grim expression set in his face as he watches his sister die. He walks towards her and rolls her silenced body over, checking to make sure she's dead._

_ "Had to make sure we'd finished the job properly, didn't we? She was a hard girl to kill, your sister. But you did it right, sure as hell you did. A jab of lightning straight through her heart. Why, you shut down her entire nervous system almost instantly." The Avatar's voice is closer now, whispering. "They say absence makes the heart grow fonder. Perhaps they should have said 'absence of lightning'?"_

_ I try to speak and find the gag has disappeared. "Why?" I demand, my voice biting. "Why are you torturing me?"_

_ The Avatar's voice is quiet, and when it returns, it speaks in a lucid manner once more. "Torture? You think I'm torturing you? That's frightfully disturbing to hear from you, Fire Lord Zuko, when all this time you've been torturing her."_

_ The stilled shot of Memory-me standing over Azula's dead body moves, changes into a face. It's Katara, staring up at me with those big, saddened eyes, her hands chained together, her face smattered with blood, her wrists covered in bruises. Her expression is so full of hurt, and for once that stabs at me._

_ "I'll tell her," the Avatar threatens. "I'll tell the world. Your people may follow you, but they worshiped Azula. You always knew it. You were always second best. You think they'll still obey you when they know the truth? When they find out who really murdered their beloved princess?"_

"NOOOOOOO!" My body jolts and I'm instantly awake, breathing like I've been running for a week. My forehead is sweaty and my hands are shaking. I grab the bedcover and toss it aside, drawing my knees up to my chest.

I inhale slowly, working to calm down. I glance over at Katara's cot. She undoubtedly heard my yell, but I've no doubt she'd rather ignore it, and for once I'm glad of that. I brush my hair out of my face and crawl out of bed as silently as I can. Grabbing a robe, I creep across the room and out into the dim hallway.

I'm going to see the Avatar.

* * *

WD94: So after all this time with Katara, we're back to Zuko. And Zuko's back to the past, which isn't so pleasant, apparently.

Please note: This chapter was written with writing energy that occurred very early in the morning, so I hope it is nonetheless coherent.


	16. Chapter 16

WiltingDaisies94: Hello everyone! So, it's been about a month since my last update, and I'm very excited to have this chapter done. My school year has begun, and of course I'm swamped with work, so right about now would be the time to expect updates once a month rather than once a week. I wish I had enough time to write every day, but life just isn't like that, I suppose.

But I have no intention of giving up this story or putting it on hiatus. You know the deal: as long as you all keep reading, I will try my absolute hardest to keep writing.

* * *

Chapter 16

"Focus." Master Jhou's voice floats over to me, washing against me like an irritated tide. "The tension in your shoulders is blocking your energy flow. You must feel the calm of concentration within yourself before you can translate it into your bending." He huffs shortly. "In other words: breathe, girl."

I clench my eyelids, trying to keep out his invasive speaking. I release the breath I've subconsciously been holding.

"Oh come now, what sort of disorganization is this? Relax your shoulders; don'ttense your lower back! You will never be able to hold control of your bending at this rate. How do you ever find any peace of mind?"

I snarl and snap my eyes open, glaring hotly at Master Jhou. Peace of mind? I draw my hands up and seize water from the steaming planthouse, whipping it at the taunting earthbender. Master Jhou leaps away quickly, and my water lashes against the ground behind him.

"Hah!" With a mighty cry, he thrusts his fists forward, slamming the earth up, trapping my hands against the wall of the planthouse. I struggle, but my wrists are caught by the rock, which only chafes with a vengeance.

Master Jhou straightens his long robe nonchalantly, brushing off a bit of dust. He walks over, face set in an expression that makes a mockery of all things patient. "Hold still, girl. All that wriggling is merely going to exacerbate the rock. The more you fight, the tighter its hold becomes."

I kick anyway.

The rock presses down.

I grimace, but hold myself steady, glowering wholeheartedly at Master Jhou.

"Glare all you like, but it certainly won't do you any good until you can bend with your eyes." He stands a few feet in front of me and adjusts his dangling sleeve, speaking softly. "And if you'd deign to focus, you'd have a chance to reach that point."

My glare fades into an expression of curiosity, and I am suddenly at attention.

Master Jhou chuckles. "Yes, that's a goal I had in mind." He clasps his hands behind his back and looks up at me squarely. "Perhaps I've overestimated your skills. They spoke quite highly of your talent during the war; I would not have assumed such complete disintegration of your abilities."

I school my face into calmness, though cold anger floods my stomach and flushes my face. I scold myself internally. I've held my emotions in check for the past two years, and suddenly every taunt has me flinging my water whip about like an overexcited child-bender? Control, I remind myself. Breathe.

"Better." Master Jhou nods at my relaxing. "Now that I have your interest, I present my offer to you as this. If you find the prospect of relearning to defend yourself and adding additional skills to your adequate set, worthwhile, then I will require your full attention, concentration and energy."

I breathe slowly, in and out, still chained up by my wrists, but no longer straining.

"I might be able to teach you to bend with your eyes, but the skill requires a better understanding of bending than you have at present. The technique itself is ancient, and much out of use – so old, in fact, that it's name is forgotten. Only masters of the bending craft have ever achieved such singular focus as is needed to accomplish the skill; but even then it is so rare, that the technique is seldom recognized as bending, and is not recorded. Oftentimes the effects are attributed to other sources, if not written off entirely."

Master Jhou begins to pace back and forth in front of me. "This body is old, little bender, even older than you'd imagine. It has taken many years of practice and patience to teach myself the technique, and I still falter in its use when my concentration breaks." He pauses to reflect. "I'm not certain how this will work with a waterbender, having only tried it myself. Who knows? Perhaps it will work more quickly. Perhaps it will not work at all. But, regardless," he adds, shrugging his shoulders, "I am not the deciding factor. Every piece of this skill relies on the bender – on you."

Master Jhou joins me in silence, letting the dripping of water down the walls fill the air. The heat is suddenly oppressive. "So, waterbender, the choice is yours. Cooperate or decline. Control your bending or refuse. But whatever you choose, I ask that you make your decision quickly. I'd rather not waste my time on an unwilling pupil."

It is an instant only, but critical nonetheless. There are times when I have felt this way before, as if I am standing on the edge of a precipice, hoping against hope that stepping off the edge is indeed a rational course of action. In fact, many of these moments seem to have occurred within the last day and a half.

I lock my gaze on Master Jhou's; the world is suspended around us. With the definition of decision, I nod.

An almost smile passes over his face. "Very well. Now, if I could so impose upon you, I will require your feet on the ground and your hands free."

I purse my lips and nod my head to the side in a gesture that clearly reads, '_then how about you let me down?'_

He chuckles. "Amusing," he says, shaking his head. "I stand now as your enemy, little bender. I have no reason to set you free." He steps away. "In battle you rely first and foremost on yourself. Imagine I am your adversary, and that I have left you here, trapped. What do you do?"

I'm ready to struggle again, but he senses my instinct and barks, "Stop! Think for a moment. There is no benefit in choosing anger; don't waste your energy."

The rocks around my wrists tighten.

"Close your eyes." Master Jhou demands, instantly calm again. "Take your time. Assess your situation. Consider your position; where are you? What do you have within your reach? What do you know about water and earth? What can you use to your advantage? Think, girl, think."

I visualize the room in my head. The two rows of plants against the long wall run parallel to the two centered rows. The stream is off to my left, and there are assorted pails and buckets throughout the room. Otherwise it is a relatively bare place, only steamy windows and open earth.

Concentrate. What do you know about earthbending? I wrack my brain. Earthbending requires central control and a low center of gravity. Perhaps I can knock Master Jhou off his balance… I wriggle my fingers, testing their mobility, and finding it limited. My wrists are trapped, and my fingers can only point up and towards me.

"Good. That's the right way. Discover your limitations. Know your own weaknesses and vulnerabilities before you track those of your enemies." Master Jhou's tone resonates with approval, in a purely military fashion. "Keep going."

I think harder. Alright, so I can only move my hands in two directions. Up isn't any good to me – spraying water towards the ceiling is useless. But why would I point the water at myself?

"Consider. Imagine your hands are free."

I picture myself on the ground; my mind replays moments of battle from the Great War. It's a montage of confusion; blood everywhere, people screaming and fleeing. Inwardly cringing, I brush past the memories, and think on the last moments I remember. Firebenders everywhere, swarming around me like flies – my water whip thrashing about – several men down – steam filling the room –

_Steam_.

My eyes open.

Fire and water make steam.

I come across a thought that has never occurred to me before, despite seeming so obvious as to be an elementary step towards becoming a bender. Of course!

I flick my hands towards the stream and the water rises gladly to meet my call. I direct it at myself. The water rushes forward, and I spin my hands, causing waves to form. I pull the waves towards my trapped wrists, where they lap at the earthen bindings ferociously. I feel the water's effect as the earth slowly dissolves and the rock loosens and erodes.

It takes a few minutes, and it's difficult not to squirm as I concentrate on the water while twisting my wrists in a pattern, but finally the bindings come apart and I drop down to the floor.

Master Jhou beckons me over, and I return my water to its place in the stream. Rubbing my wrists, I join him in the center of the planthouse between the rows of greenery.

"Sit," he says, a gentle command, placing himself on the floor with an unexpected amount of grace. When I've settled down across from him, he continues. "Your focus is shaken, bender. You've too long thought of bending as a weapon – you must remember that water, air, fire, and earth are elements. How they move and interact, what happens when they meet – these are not products of power, rather they are determinations of structure.

"It is a child's lesson, as I'm sure you've realized. If I take water," he gestures at me, and I flick over a small amount, "and mix it with earth, I will make what?" He stirs the earth with the water. "Mud, obviously. But who controls that mixture? A waterbender would pull out the water; an earthbender could control only the earth."

I try, but his words predict my results, and the water resurfaces as smoothly as it went in, leaving the now dried earth behind.

"Precisely. Consider the vapor that rises over the simmering tip of a volcano – what makes it up? There is the fire of the volcano, the heat that rises. The vapor itself is a combination of water and air. So, I restate," Master Jhou's voice becomes more emphatic. "Who controls what? Can a bender manipulate another bender's element when it includes their own?"

My forehead wrinkles in confusion. What a strange concept.

Master Jhou sees my pensive expression, and continues, gesturing. "Bending can be used for war, without doubt. But you must recall that everything is made up of the four elements, and that they serve a greater function than battle. Now stand," he says. "Put out your hands. Close your eyes and focus."

I push myself off the ground and stand with my feet together. I elongate my arms, stretching out my hands to the sides, and breathe deeply.

"There is a perversion that man has added to the art of bending, a disrespect for the elements that pervades modern warfare. That is why the Avatar is so powerful – he lives with a deep appreciation and reverence towards all elements. Avatars know true balance. That is what separates them from other benders, even more so than their ability to bend all elements." Master Jhou pauses. "That is why so few benders are truly great. One must understand the strengths and weaknesses of the elements first."

I feel my hands relax, and my blood flowing throughout my body.

"That is where we will begin. Mind over matter. Now open your eyes, and we will begin again."

* * *

WD94: So we've gotten a little philosophical in this chapter. But Katara is more or less out of practice with her bending, and when in doubt, we go back to the basics.

The idea of 'eye-bending' (which is what I'm calling it for now) is something I've made up, but it sounded like a cool concept when I first thought of it, so we'll see where that takes Katara, shall we?


	17. Chapter 17

WiltingDaisies94: And here I am, bearing my October update. I know it's late in the month, but I've been extremely busy, so please, bear with me. I've done a lot of work with developing the finite structure of the rest of the plot, which should help my writing immensely.

Now, being a devoted Zutarian, I must say it's about time our two favorite characters had a chapter together? It's been one or the other since Chapter 12, and this is Chapter 17, so it's overdue. This chapter (in accordance with my plot development) will include both Zuko and Katara, told from Zuko's point of view. Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 17

I finish the last piece of fruit on my plate, simultaneously signing off on a revised trade agreement. I watch the Ambassador out of the corner of my eye; he's smiling slightly and craning his neck. Purposefully I speed up my signature and finish with a decided flourish. A servant whisks away the document, slipping out of the dining hall quickly and silently, the picture of a good attendant.

Katara sits further along the table, eating deliberately, lost in thought. I try to gauge how much attention she's paying, with little success, as the Ambassador clears his throat and begins to speak. "Your Majesty, on behalf of the mighty King Lho, 53rd ruler of the Earth Kingdom, this delegation thanks you for your generous hospitality. It is with much hope and good cheer we return to the Earth Kingdom, carrying word of your kindness and singing your praises."

I nearly snort at the thought of the Ambassador spontaneously bursting into song, but suppress the instinct. I put on the face of politely disinterested royalty and ready a diplomatic reply. "Ambassador, the Fire Lord is most pleased with the progress of our two nations." I smile. The power of nosism is highly compelling. "It is our fondest wish that our two nations may continue to prosper and grow as allies and friends."

Before Ambassador Ri can reply with something equally bland and official sounding, one of his retinue comes scurrying up to his seat. The man bends over and whispers a hasty message into the Ambassador' rather large ear. He listens attentively, furrowing his brow, and I sip my tea with expectation, deaf to the murmur of the other members of Earth Kingdom delegation.

Ambassador Ri nods once, and turns back to me with a smile. Watching those small, displeased lips mold into a pleasant facial structure is disconcerting, and I have the urge to stop him. It is as unnatural as song from the throat of a mute. The analogy is apropos, and I glance down the long table at Katara, who's still focused on her plate and her meditations.

"You Majesty, I've been informed that our messenger bird has returned with news from the Jae Min. They've received your orders and the prisoners will set out from Ba Sing Se tomorrow at dawn. The journey is approximately three weeks long, so Your Majesty should have plenty of time to…prepare…for their arrival." The Ambassador trails off, inclining his head, manners impeccable as ever.

"Excellent," I reply crisply, replacing my cup on the table. "What men bring these traitors into my country?"

"The esteemed Earth King sends as guard two dozen agents of the Jae Min, as well as the Lord Jo Kai Mei and his seven sons."

I raise my eyebrows. "I have heard talk of this Lord and his many sons, tales of their battle prowess." This is true, but I pause, trying to remember what exactly it is I've been told. "Please, regale me."

The Ambassador bristles. "I am no taleteller, Majesty, but I will recount what I know. His Lordship lives still, in the western part of the capital city. He is nearing his sixtieth year, and although he is not an element bender, he is of military blood and ability unparalleled elsewhere." The Ambassador clears his throat. "Lord Jo Kai Mei was a general under the rule of the last Earth King. He was instrumental in the conquering of the southern mountain territories. He drove the pillaging barbarians out of the caves and down to the sea; he is renowned as the commander with the lowest casualty rate seen in the last hundred years."

I nod, the biography sounding familiar. "And his sons?"

"An unanticipated twist in his Lordship's life. Not long after the mountain battles his wife bore him seven sons in quick succession. His Lordship, having the mind of a military commander, raised his sons as warriors. He gave each one a weapon to master – the bow, the longstaff, the double swords, and so on. Lord Jo Kai Mei trained them as a military unit; they serve as His Majesty's personal bodyguards when the Earth King travels on official business." Ambassador Ri folds his arms. "The youngest is about Your Majesty's age."

"Hmm." I ponder. "Well, that sounds perfectly acceptable, provided they are as capable as you say. I will expect the entourage in three weeks time." I stand, and the rest of the table follows suit. "The Fire Nation thanks His Majesty for his assistance."

Ambassador Ri bows. "As always, it is the Earth Kingdom's honor to oblige our noble friends. I look forward to our next meeting, and hope it will occur with only pleasant circumstance."

I incline my head and gesture for him to rise. Ambassador Ri gets up and along with his troupe of men, exits the dining hall. The guards posted at the entrance pull open the doors, and I watch the Earth retinue leave with undue satisfaction. Nothing to me is as lovely as seeing the back of the ambassador.

When the doors close I breathe out. It's only the waterbender and me left in the room. I appraise her and she meets my eyes, staring right back. It's similar to the defiant look I've come to recognize, but something in it has changed. I detect a new determination; a previously unidentified light.

I smile. That's the sort of look I remember. Perfect. She's falling for my trap. I knew that bit with Mai would be a good hook. _You might have hooked yourself a bit too,_ whispers a voice in my head. I consider the round of shooting practice I went through afterwards. No. I shake my head, brushing the thought aside. Ridiculous. The girl's been sitting for meals with nobility and diplomats. She has new clothing and a place to sleep; she's on her way back. I'm merely herding her along.

"Please, come," I entreat, beckoning to her, eyes not leaving her face. "I believe you have time to spare before Ty Lee whisks you away to examine her accounts." The waterbender looks surprised. "Yes, I know where you've been the last few days. Try not to be shocked, but I do keep track of my personal attendants."

We exit the dining hall and I lead down the eastern corridor, Katara following behind. "I will drop you off at Ty Lee's apartments. As it happens, I need to speak with her myself."

She raises her eyebrows but merely gives me a half nod. Not that I require her permission, but a gentleman never insists. My smile stretches slightly farther. This is getting better all the time.

"I don't suppose anyone has warned you about the upcoming festivities?" I ask nonchalantly.

She shakes her head, uncertain.

"It's Fire Nation custom." I pause. "Come this way. We will use a shortcut, I think." I usher her through a side door that leads into an entirely separate passageway. "This coming week is midsummer. As you might guess, it is a highly spiritual day for the Fire Nation. It is supposedly the brightest day of the summer, although the truth of that is not precisely set in stone.

"Traditionally the royal family puts together the Midsummer Festival. It takes place here in the capital city, and the celebrations last for a week. The Festival culminates with a custom called the Dance of Streets."

Katara tucks a piece of hair behind her ear, her expression mildly curious. I have no idea what the primitive people of the Water Tribes do for festivals. They probably wear their bear skins and howl at the moon or some such savagery.

"The Dance of Streets is of course, out of doors, and occupies the majority of the city. It is also the only day of the year where the palace is opened to the people. Not," I amend, "the entire palace. The main courtyards and gardens are used, as well as the dance hall.

"The rather enigmatic part of the Dance of Streets is that it is a masked celebration. Everyone, from ordinary citizens to nobles, dons a mask and costume. There's food and drink; people mixing and dancing; and," I smirk, "many children born nine months later. It's great fun for the people."

The waterbender walks on, still listening, the asymmetrical line of her skirt flaring as she moves. I briefly consider her from behind. Her step is different – more confident. An interesting development, considering the girl hardly knows her way around my palace. Lovely.

"The Dance of Streets can be dangerous for the unwary. The carousing can become a little rough at points. Wrestling matches have been known to break out in the dance hall. Of course, the guards attempt to keep it to a minimum, but there is only so much can be done to punish the rowdier crowds."

The girl turns her head to look at me, cocking it to the side. Her expression reads a clear, _'why is that?'_

I barely chuckle and shrug indifferently. "It's the result of one of the ancient customs of the Dance of Street. It is forbidden to remove one's mask."

Katara nods, without much conviction.

"Hypothetically the Dance of Streets is an equalizer: the city's highest aristocrat may be passionately kissing the lowliest laborer in the nation, and they will never be the wiser."

I get ahead of the girl and turn left, now into the main catacomb of the occupied apartments. "The tradition originated centuries ago with Fire Lord Kijo, who needed a way to deal with the extreme wealth disparities of the kingdom. The Dance of Streets was added to the Festival, because midsummer is the time when firebenders and Fire Nation citizens are the most agreeable. The Dance wasn't a perfect long term solution, obviously, but it was immensely popular back then, and remains so today."

There is a spark of interest in the girl's eyes, which pleases me greatly. "All this is written in our histories. Perhaps I should bring you to the scroll room some time after the Festival."

She seems surprised, but in no position to oppose my suggestion.

"As for now, you only need be aware that the Festival begins this coming week, at dawn of the first day, and the Dance of Streets is the end, on the seventh day."

Katara hesitates, and points at herself.

"No," I reply, reading her thoughts. "You will certainly not be attending the Festival. The household staff is always hard at work keeping everything in order. I'm merely informing you that you may be called upon to help. And if not, it would behoove you to stay out from underfoot." I brush a particle of dirt off my sleeve. "The Festival can have a rather rampaging affect to it."

She purses her lips and looks away. I have the distinct impression she's rolling her eyes.

"Here." I turn down a hallway and Ty Lee's apartments come into view. A pair of guards stands outside, talking quietly between themselves.

"Your Majesty," they mumble, pulling the doors wide open.

I enter, Katara trailing behind.

Master Jhou is waiting in the front room, reading a scroll. He looks up and spots Katara. "Come along, girl," he says gruffly, in that gravelly tone that sets my teeth on edge, rolling up the scroll. "You hardly made a dent in the accounts I gave you yesterday, and you will rectify that immediately. Hurry up."

The waterbender moves past me, and disappears, following after the wobbly old man.

"Sweet," a voice croons from the shadowy hallway. Ty Lee steps forward, tying off the end of her scorpion tail braid. She's wearing a pink dress with a tight waist, a mostly see through skirt, and floating, off shoulder sleeves. She looks perfect, and exactly like she just got out of bed.

She's clearly in a particular mood, as she advances on me. "You know, I'm a bit surprised at you, Your Majesty." She stops in front of me, reaching up to trail a finger lazily across my bottom lip, looking seductive and vaguely bored at once. "I never pegged you for the type who likes to share their favorite toys."

I open my mouth and she inserts her finger. I hold it between my lips for a moment. Ty Lee smiles.

I bite down.

"Ouch!" she hisses, snatching her hand back and cradling her abused finger. "That hurt," she says, pouting half-mockingly.

For once I have little patience for her games. I grab her upper arm forcefully, and she has to stop herself from wincing. I pull her in to me and she looks down. Quietly and deliberately I whisper, "It's time for a little talk."

Ty Lee looks up at me and with all the audacity in the world, the little bitch slowly starts to smirk.

"After you."

* * *

WD94: Chapters like this are always a challenge to write. I mean, how do you write a conversation when one of the participants is mute? Oh Katara, always making things complicated for me!

The Festival - Another non-canon alternate universe idea of mine. Fire Nation people must have holidays. I think I've made it clear how the Festival works, but if you have any outlying questions, feel free to ask.

Zuko and Ty Lee - traditionally I don't ship them, but this is my alternate reality, so before you go 'absolutely not' take a few things into consideration. Zuko is Fire Lord, Ty Lee is noble. Mai is out of the picture. Zuko's more of a jerk than usual, and Ty Lee is hot. It's almost impossible for the two of them not to have slept together in this reality.


	18. Chapter 18

WiltingDaisies94: Happy day after Thanksgiving everyone! I hope you all had a pleasant holiday with your loved ones, and that I can help continue that happy streak with this next chapter.

There is not much to say by way of introduction; I think you'll find this chapter speaks for itself. From Zuko's POV. Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 18

"I've told you," Ty Lee snaps, drumming her fingers impatiently on the bookshelf. "I am working on it. And you _will_ pardon the delay, oh Mighty Fire Lord. Contrary to your popular belief, I can't simply wave my hand, then back flip three times and make an antidote appear."

"Ty Lee," I growl, "I do not have the time to wait on you." I pace irritably across the scroll room; the lit fireplace grows from a flicker to a roar.

She has the audacity to smirk at me. "I know you don't. You think I'm unaware that your reign, in fact, your entire claim to the throne, is threatened? And will stay that way until I find away to abolish your threat?"

I narrow my eyes, traveling back and forth in front of the fire. "Watch where you tread, Mistress. Remember with whom you speak."

She raises an eyebrow. "Oh Beloved Fire Lord, how I beg your forgiveness."

"You're a terrible liar."

She laughs. "Now we both know that's false." Her face becomes serious. "However, it seems I'm not the only one who needs a refresher on who holds the power here." She leans against the closest armchair and flicks her braid over her shoulder. "You know I'm the only one with the knowledge needed to solve your problem."

I grunt in unwilling admission and seat myself curtly across from the acrobat, adjusting the Flame of Power.

"Let's review, shall we?" She kicks her legs up over the back of the chair and lands gracefully across the seat, legs hanging over the armrest. "You failed to kill the Avatar during the Great War. Tut, tut, I doubt your people would like hearing that little tidbit." She shakes her. "But, in a twisted version of a saving grace, with the help of an energy-binding powder you made, whose ingredients you somehow can't recall, you trapped the Avatar. And somehow, vaguely and without explanation, this backfired, encasing him in an enormous crystalline structure. And now," she pauses to draw breath, "I'm in the midst of looking for a reversal draught, with no guidance as to what sort of mixture I'm counteracting, to help clean up your mess."

I roll my eyes and look away. It already sounds complex, and she hardly knows the half of it. "You know our deal," I reply tersely. "Whatever you've requested of me, have I not seen it done? Every trinket and piece of finery has been delivered to you, at the expense of my coffers."

She smiles brilliantly. "Yes, I suppose that's true."

"I've made you a titled member of my court, given you property and a manor, and granted you an annual allowance in accordance with your station." I flare my nostrils, and the fire in the hearth sparks. "And yet somehow, despite your myriad resources, not to mention the help of a talented agricultural master, I still wait on a solution."

Ty Lee throws back her head and laughs harshly. "Talented agricultural master? Should I assume you're referring to Master Jhou?" She scoffs. "That doddering old fool." Ty Lee adopts a light, high-pitched tone and bats her eyelashes. "Oh please, Master Jhou, would you be so kind as to make me some pretty perfumes? I do love flowers, but I simply don't know a thing about them!"

Her eyes flash. "And he believes that act, the ancient codger. How in the world am I supposed to retrieve anything useful with a clueless geezer for assistance?"

"That is not my concern," I answer, fists clenched tightly. "I've upheld my part of this deal – it is your turn."

She runs a finger across her bottom lip, a pout settling across her pale features.

There's a tense silence in the room as the fire crackles in irritation. The scroll room is a surprisingly closeted place. Unusual because of its circular structure, the walls are covered with shelves, each supporting a mountain of scrolls. The fireplace on the back wall is the only source of light – too many torches would risk igniting the scrolls. There's a black table in the center of the room, surrounded by four red armchairs. The flickering shadows from the firelight stretch across the floor and illuminate the back of Ty Lee's chair.

"Luckily for you," Ty Lee says quietly, examining her nails, "I am progressing."

My interest is immediately piqued. "I'm listening."

"The old man brought me a new extract yesterday." She glances up at me. "Its energetic properties are beyond anything I've seen before."

I lean forward; I'm sure my face displays my eagerness. "Will it work?"

Ty Lee lifts a shoulder carelessly. "I don't know. I have yet to test it. I hope you realize, my Lord, this was not a simple experiment to design." There's a hint of irritation in her voice. "It took me the better part of the first year to duplicate the crystal, and another two months to figure out how to freeze the beetles alive inside them." She purses her lips. "Not to mention that many of the 'funds' you've granted me have gone towards acquiring the necessary materials."

"Spare me your personal inconvenience," I snap back. "When my difficulty is solved you may have all the frippery that pleases your manipulative heart."

"Do you promise?" the little viper asks.

"Are you accusing the Fire Lord of untruth, Mistress?" I reply, and she closes her mouth. "Now, tell me what you've discovered."

She sighs, rolling her eyes up to the ceiling. "This particular specimen comes from the Southern Air Temples. Purity be damned, but those cavernous mountains have an equilibrated energy flow that could knock the other three nations clear off the face of the earth." She chuckles briefly. "If there were any airbenders left to use it, of course."

I frown. "There's yet one left. And what are you proposing I do about that?"

She shakes her head and wags a finger. "Patience, my Lord, patience. I'm getting there. Now, the plant was brought here with strict orders that no one be told. The only other person who knows of its arrival is Master Jhou, who suspects nothing, and the sender. Mai sends her regards, by the way."

A small lump settles in my esophagus and I choke. "Mai?"

Ty Lee nods twice, nonchalantly.

"H-how-hm," I clear my throat. "How is she?"

Ty Lee smiles slightly. "She seems to have adapted well enough to her surroundings. It's a bit colder in the Air Temples, but at least it gives her an excuse to wear heavy veils." She pauses. "Mai is satisfied, I think. Perhaps the atmosphere is a bit too religious for her absolute preference, but no one asks her questions in the monastery."

I swallow. "Good."

Ty Lee surveys me with a look that almost hinges on pity, but apparently thinks better of it, and moves on. "Now, obviously the beetle's body structure is radically different than that of a person, but hypothetically, if I drip some of the extract on the outside of the crystal, just over the energy points of the beetle, I should be able break the structure."

She smiles, enjoying her own abilities. "Of course, I'll have to verify my theory. But, provided I'm right, which I inevitably am, I should have a proper mixture ready by…" she thinks for a minute. "I'd estimate… oh, maybe late next week?"

My insides are practically quaking with delight, and all thoughts of Mai have dropped out of my head. "I am quite pleased to hear that." Then something occurs to me, and I raise my eyebrows. "I must ask, then – are you planning to work through the Midsummer Festival?"

"Oh, I don't mind overly much," she replies glibly. "The weekday festivities are sweet, but I've seen it all before, and from both sides of the palace gates at that. No, I admit it hardly interests me. But I will stipulate this," she says, eyes glinting. "Whether or not I've finished the draught by that time, I will be off duty for the Dance of Streets."

I bark a laugh and eye Ty Lee suggestively. "Of course! How cruel must you think me to imagine I would deny you that most coveted of rights. After all, the Mistress must be free to take her pleasure at the Dance of Streets."

She pretends affront, but simultaneously slinks out of her chair, which somewhat reduces the effect. "My Lord, such shocking notions! I merely meant that I intend to enjoy the dancing." She turns away and walks over towards the fire, her pace deliberately slow.

I stand smoothly. Ty Lee has done well, it would seem, and a clever Fire Lord always rewards his allies. "Did you _enjoy_ the Dance of Streets last year, Mistress?" My voice is low, and quickly gaining a predatory edge.

Ty Lee has stopped in front of the fireplace, and I see a shiver run through her. "Oh yes. I met the loveliest people, and danced all night. The music was perfect, the happiness contagious… and…"

"And?" I ask, still creeping towards her. One of her sleeves has fallen from her shoulder, and drapes against her arm.

"Well," she whispers, "there was also a man."

I can almost hear the blush in her voice. Ty Lee is frighteningly good at playing roles, a perfect pretender. She trieds on faces and emotions as easily as she slips in and out of her scads of clothing. "Tell me about him," I demand.

"Oh my Lord, I couldn't." She reduces her voice to a near whimper. "It would hardly be appropriate."

I've reached her. Deliberately I run a slow finger down her arm. "All the more reason I must know. The Fire Lord should always be aware of what his subjects are doing."

She smiles. "I don't know much about him, my Lord; he was wearing a mask. But he had thick, dark hair, cut just above his shoulder, and a strong, broad chest. His clothing was black and he was wearing a cloak. And his hands," she recalls demurely, "were pale, with long fingers that set my skin on fire."

"Fire, you say?" I flick my hand and the fire in the hearth bounds, the tongues licking out at Ty Lee.

"Ooh!" she gives a start and jumps, spinning around and flying into my waiting arms.

I pull her body flush up against mine, and stare at her intently. I lean down and whisper in Ty Lee's ear as she quivers with excitement. "But could he kiss?"

"Compared to whom?" she asks innocently.

I swoop in and meet her lips. She pushes back, flicking out her tongue across my bottom lip, and throws her arms around my neck. I find her supple waist and tug, drawing her ever closer to me.

The heat from the fireplace blazes, almost singing in my blood; her mouth is perfect and clever. Ty Lee gives off a little moan, and every primal instinct in my body immediately flares to life.

Regretfully I pull back, though I'm far from finished. "Mistress, I will need to know more about what you did with this man. I'm afraid you will have to come with me for a proper interrogation."

"As you wish, my Lord," Ty Lee says, her eyes still closed.

I smirk and brush her hair out of her face.

I do love when everything goes my way.

* * *

WD94: **O.o **

Now you know the truth: Ty Lee is smarter than everyone thinks she is. Much, _much_ smarter.


	19. Chapter 19

WiltingDaisies94: Hello everyone! Hope you all enjoyed your holidays (Chanukah, Christmas, Kwanzaa, anything else you celebrated). Here's my present to you for the New Year, a day or two early, as I'm sure you all have better things to do than read fanfiction on New Years Eve/Day.

I'm going to take a moment to do a little advertising for myself. I don't know if any of you watch the BBC show Merlin, but I've fallen madly in love with it and written a five chapter piece for the fandom, based on an episode of Charmed. If you know the show, I'd love you to check out the story, and if you like Charmed, you'll probably enjoy it too; please give it a go! The title is _A Knightly Affair_ - you can find it on my profile.

Okay, now that that's done with, on to this story. Last chapter we discovered Zuko's secret and Ty Lee's genius (but we all knew she was the smart one, right?). This chapter we're back with Katara (her POV) and our favorite training master, so be prepared for great wisdom. =)

* * *

Chapter 19

"Better." Master Jhou turns tacitly on his heel and walks away from me, allowing me a moment to recover from my earliest exercises. "You are improving already; I take this as a good sign of your physical health."

I try to restore my breathing, and wipe at the sweat gathering on my forehead. I hold out a hand and bend a small amount of water, no more than a shallow bowl could carry, into my hands. I sip some, feeling my racing pulse relax, and spray my face with the rest of the water. It is not quite cool, but surprisingly refreshing.

"Your morning paces are coming along well. You must be careful on your turns, though. A great deal of firebending relies on sharp angles and quick spurts of destructive bending." Master Jhou finishes strolling the length of the planthouse and begins walking the return pattern. "Waterbending is fluid, made of flowing motions and extended yet powerful bending techniques. There is clear contrast between the two bending styles." He tucks his hands into his enormous sleeves. "You need not adapt to the firebending technique, but you must become more aware of it. Your defense is solid, but your counterattack is weak, and your reaction time slow."

I nearly lift a hand to pat myself on the shoulder. Well done, I tell myself.

In all fairness, Master Jhou is a crazed perfectionist; the tragic part is that he does actually know what the hell he's talking about. If my last several lessons with him have been any indication, he won't be satisfied until I am absolutely prepared to take on the Fire Lord's entire army single-handedly.

Or something like that. Master Jhou has remained charmingly silent on the matter of _what_ he's actually training me to do. I can surmise it has something to do with getting me out of this hellhole palace, but the 'how' and 'why' aspects are still as vague as one may please.

"So," Master Jhou says, coming to a halt a few feet away from me, "today we are going to get you thinking like a firebender."

My eyebrows shoot up my forehead and my mouth opens, instinctively ready to argue. It's become a sort of useless gesture, I admit, as nothing ever comes out. The retaliation instinct was one of the first I squashed when I arrived at the palace.

"Since we have no objections," (here my fists tighten and my look changes to that of someone having tasted something extremely sour), "we will begin."

Glaring at the Master, I consciously uncurl my hands, and plant my feet in an imitation of a firebender's stance.

For some reason Master Jhou shakes his head. "Wrong."

I move my hands, putting them in the outstretched position I've seen the Fire Lord use many times, trying to affect the same cocky self-assuredness that firebenders as a whole seem to possess.

Again, Master Jhou shakes his head. "No."

Exasperated, I hold my hands out in an exaggerated gesture of '_what do you want from me, you crazy old man'_, and shoot him an irritated look.

Master Jhou just shakes his head again. "This is precisely what I mean, girl. I told you that we will have you _thinking_ like a firebender. Which part of that translated to you as involving bending?"

I look at him rather dumbly, feeling like little more than a schoolchild too slow at understanding her lesson.

"Sit," he commands me, and I do. "As I said, you need work on your attack; but more importantly, you must refine your reaction to firebending. You view the skill with trepidation because you do not know its inner workings. To fight that which you fear, you must realize first _why_ it is to be feared."

I'm starting to follow. He wants me to get into my enemy's head first, then work with, rather than against, what I find there. I nod at the Master. As I said, he's mad, but he knows what he's doing.

"So here is how we begin." Master Jhou is apparently not interested in seating himself, and starts walking in a slow circle around me. "A simple question."

The Master is slowly disappearing from my peripheral vision, although his voice reaches me just the same. I take a breath, steeling myself against the disconcerting and unpleasant feeling of hearing a disembodied voice.

"It is evening, and there are four nightjays seated on a rooftop. Out of nowhere a jumping rodent leaps into their midst, and injures one of the birds." Master Jhou has returned to my line of sight. "How many unharmed nightjays remain seated on the roof?"

I look at the Master, who has started his second rotation, and hold up three fingers. It's a child's question, easily answered. Why is he bothering me with simple counting games?

"Incorrect." He's behind me. "Focus. Think. Try again."

I close my eyes, still not feeling particularly wrong, but if Master Jhou says so, clearly it must be true. That is just the difficulty with him. He never explains anything until after the fact – I often worry I won't know what I'm fighting against until after it's finished.

As if he can read my mind, Master Jhou interrupts, "Hold your irritation, waterbender." I imagine I hear a smile in his voice, but obviously I'm mistaken, as a moment later he repeats his newest mantra, "Think, girl."

I pool my concentration and review the question in my head. Four birds on a rooftop, one gets attacked – it should make three, right? Well, apparently not. Think, Katara, think like a firebender.

Okay. I imagine the firebender as the jumping rodent, which makes me smile a bit. The nightjays can be… civilians, I suppose. If a firebender attacked four nonbenders, and injured one, there would be three uninjured people left. Three civilians. So what's wrong with my answer? There would be three civilians still alive, but about to be killed –

I figure it out. I open my eyes and round my fingers, holding out a new answer. Zero. None. There wouldn't be any civilians left, because when the firebender attacked the first one, the other three would flee. No person or bird stays and waits to die when a predator comes at them. They run. No birds would be left on the roof.

"Wrong."

What?

Master Jhou shoots down my second try, but this time I see the hint of a nod. "You are thinking. Try again."

I sigh and close my eyes again, trying to 'hold my irritation' as Master Jhou would put it. Why not zero? Why would there be any birds still seated on the roof? Obviously the jumping rodent is a threat…

But the lesson here is to think like a firebender, so I revert to my firebending scenario. The firebender attacks the civilians, and they run, so he… chases them down? No, that can't be correct. A firebender would easily overpower innocent nonbenders, even if he had to track them down one at a time to kill them off. That would still leave zero.

Great.

Well, what if they aren't civilians? What if the four 'birds' are waterbenders or earthbenders instead? A firebender who attacked four waterbenders and managed to injure one, would be at the mercy of the other three.

Except that three isn't the answer.

Ugh. I ponder. If they were waterbenders, though, at least one would go to help the injured bender. As a people it is against our nature to leave the helpless unprotected; one waterbender would aid the injured friend, while the other two fought off the threat.

I almost hold up two fingers, but I pull my hand back before it makes it all the way into the air.

No. Two can't be right either. These are birds, not benders.

And not just any birds – nightjays.

My hand shoots up in the air, one finger held aloft.

One. There would be one bird left on the roof. I'm almost amazed I didn't see it before.

Nightjays are predators themselves, and their most unique feature is that they hunt in pairs. Because they're not large enough to do much damage singularly, nightjays track down their prey – large rodents and the like – two by two. So, if a jumping rodent attacked a nightjay with three others watching, two of those three would try to take down the rodent as their own prey. So with two fighting the rodent (and likely winning because of the doubled effort and their nasty, sharp claws), that would leave only one whole bird on the roof.

"Correct." Master Jhou stops walking and stands in front of me. "Well thought through. Do you begin to understand, waterbender?"

I cross my arms and nod.

"Good." He doesn't move. "Firebenders are extraordinarily strategic. They are trained from very early on to look at every aspect of a situation and find a way to compensate for or use it. A good firebender always looks to find their enemy's weakness, but simultaneously never underestimates their strengths."

He pauses, then says slowly, "It interests me that 'three' was your first answer. 'Three' is the earthbender's response." Master Jhou begins to pace. Something about him won't sit still today. "As you know, we are a very concrete people; when given numbers we think in very definite terms. An earthbender's approach in battle is similar – we know what we need to get out of the fight, and we war relentlessly until we get it. We are strong-minded people and good fighters, but not strategists."

I give up any intention I had of standing up and stretch my legs out in front of me, resting my weight on my hands. Now _this_ is much more interesting to listen to than Master Jhou's regular lectures on my inadequate bending technique.

"'None' is the airbender's reply." Master Jhou clasps his hands behind his back. "To an airbender, this is not a question of counting, but of nature and her function. The rodent is the predator and the nightjay is the prey. When one attacks, the other is defeated, because that is nature's rule. To an airbender's mind, there is no revenge, only cycle and reason, so the other birds fly away. Thus the answer is zero." Master Jhou clears his throat. "This too is indicative of the fighting style. Airbenders are very attuned to the world around them, to nature and her laws. Their energy is perfectly focused, but it is often difficult to stir an airbender to true ire."

I listen attentively, applying these ideas to the benders I have known. I still feel a pang at the thought of Aang and Toph, but it stings less than usual.

"The waterbender says 'two', as you came very close to doing."

I nod, already ahead of his logic.

"Two means teamwork, attacking a foe with the aid of others. Waterbenders are fiercely protective of their own – why do you think they are called the Water _Tribes_? Not kingdom, not nation; these are impersonal, representative of mass patriotism. 'Tribe' indicates a tight-knit inner community." Master Jhou's pacing slows. "But because of that loyalty, waterbenders are often soft-hearted in battle. No waterbender leaves an injured ally to die, often taking on great personal risk to save them.

"But 'one', one is the firebender's answer, without doubt." Master Jhou stops in front of me. "A firebender is much like that last bird on the roof; not frightened, and therefore he will not flee, but nor is it his nature to help. When a firebender hears this question, he immediately attacks each facet. What do I know of nightjays? he will think to himself. What chance does a jumping rodent stand against four birds?"

This may be the first time Master Jhou has ever lectured me on something that has made absolute sense and seemed actively applicable to my growth as a bender. I'm sure I must be looking at him bright-eyed and eager, the image of an ideal student.

"Firebenders may be impersonal and selfish; I doubt not that most firebenders would not hesitate in leaving or betraying their own kin. The firebending instinct is to find the most advantageous situation for one's self." Master Jhou frowns. "A firebender weighs the importance of things around them by the use they imagine they might have. They do not suffer from the loyalty of a waterbender or the passivity of an airbender or the straight forward mindset of an earthbender. They. Are. _P__lanners_.

"That is what it means to think like a firebender. Their movements, their attacks and bending techniques all circle around those ideas. Their style is sharp because they are, their attacks pointed because there is no softness in a firebender." The Master breathes. "Now stand up, girl."

I find my feet quickly, feeling almost enchanted by the power of his words.

"Take your position. But from now on, as you go through your training, you will think like a firebender. No more hesitation. No more doubt or worry. Allow your enemy into your mind, and you will open the door to his.

"Now begin!"

* * *

WD94: For those of you wondering, nightjays are indeed my own little invention, as are jumping rodents (cheers to JK Rowling's incredible bouncing ferret for the inspiration).

I promise the eye-bending is not lost, it will be coming up soon, but Katara has to get some other stuff down first.

Next chapter coming in January 2012, and I'll give you a clue - it's not from Zuko or Katara's point of view. Til then!


	20. Chapter 20

WiltingDaisies94: Happy New Year everyone! First chapter of 2012, and I am really excited. As I mentioned last chapter, this one is not from either Katara or Zuko's point of view, although it will follow the same first person, present tense pattern as my other chapters.

This chapter is pulling on some information you all received a long time ago (I would recommend a review of chapter nine). I know we all love Zuko and Katara (and maybe even Jhou?), but you'll find that in this story there's a lot of stuff going on unbeknownst to our main characters. So, see if you can figure out who's narrating for you; it may surprise you.

This being another special chapter mark, this one I dedicate to** AnnaAza**, a wonderful reader and reviewer! I'm glad you enjoyed the riddle last chapter, and points to you for trying to figure it out. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and thank you for reading! :)

* * *

Chapter 20

"_Get out of here!" Katara's voice is trembling with fear, but I can tell she's trying hard to pass it off as concern. "There's no way the rest of the guards haven't heard us; they'll be hear any minute. Go!"_

_ "No!" I pant, finishing off the last of this batch of guards and trying to catch my breath. "We have to wait for Aang!"_

_ "We can't!" Katara is yelling now, forcing herself to be heard over the thunderous sound of approaching footsteps. "You know what he said – if he's not back within the time given –"_

_ "He will be back!" I argue, preparing myself for the next attack of Fire Nation warriors. "This is Aang we're talking about, okay? He will –"_

_ A tidal wave of water forces me backwards, away from the main entrance to the room, and I'm knocked off my feet before I can do anything to stop Katara._

_ "Leave," she command, an edge in her voice. "I will go after Aang. I need you to find a way out of here. If we don't have an escape route, we're all dead." She's completely serious._

_ I stumble to my feet, rubbing water out of my eyes. "But –"_

_ "No buts!" she roars. "MOVE!"_

_ I've hardly ever heard Katara so angry, and my feet step backwards before I can atop them. _

_And suddenly I'm running._

_The forest around me hums with excitement. I can hear Fire Nation soldiers swarming, trying to catch up with me. I push myself harder, still trying to work out how I can get back to the palace._

_Faster!_

_I can't believe it. I'm running away from my friends, my family, the people I care about most in the world. They need my help, and I have no way to go back for them._

_There's just too many damn soldiers!_

_From one edge of the forest to the other, they're coming; soldiers, benders and nonbenders alike. They have their orders to hunt me down and capture, even kill me. For all I know Aang is dead, Ozai is victorious, Katara – _

_No! I force my mind to concentrate, cursing myself for worrying, and try to parse out the rest of the territory. _

_There's a ravine on the other side of the forest, and if I pick up the pace I think I can lose these little fire rats down there._

_Hurry, hurry! _

"Keep the reigns steady, you imbecile!"

I bolt awake at the sudden jerk, already preparing to leap to my feet. When I realize it's nothing, I yawn widely; to think I'd been napping so pleasantly a minute ago. I force my muscles to relax, and breathe deeply.

I lean back and feel thick wood meet my back solidly. We've been traveling like this for days, the seven of us in this one tiny box wagon. Most of the guys are still sleeping; they're mostly not used to the sense of living with immediate danger all around.

I steady myself and shift irritably, trying to stop the chafe of my shackles against my wrists. Once again I shake my head in disappointment, silently cursing the Earth Kingdom for giving in to the power of the Fire Nation.

The world has changed so much in two years. Ever since the showdown with Ozai… they call it the Great War now, though speaking as someone who was there, 'great' is not the word that comes to mind.

I snort. It still amazes me that we lost. I hear everything that goes on around me, understand the new world order, and I can't imagine how it all happened. This outcome – this was not part of the plan.

Admittedly Ozai dead is better than alive, and I can give Zuko maybe half a second's worth of credit for only being a tenth the violent asshole his father was. He may be cruel, but Zuko's better at hiding it. With the rebuilding of the Earth Kingdom he's worked himself into a nice, cushy little position.

The real treachery was his policy towards the Water Tribes. Not that the Northern and Southern Water Tribes have ever been well allied, but Zuko drove a specific and horrible wedge between the two.

After the war ended, he offered an alliance – to the Northern tribes only. He purposefully did not ask the Southern tribes, in an attempt to leave them completely out in the cold. And the Northern tribes had been in no position to decline his offer.

After establishing their authority in the Earth Kingdom, the Fire Nation had easily become the most powerful country in the world. Allying themselves with the Northern Water Tribes was an assurance that the Southern tribes would never find help again. The Southern tribes were meant to suffer for choosing the wrong side in the war, that much was clear.

Yes, unfortunately for us, Zuko was not an idiot. Taking on the transformation of the Air Temples was a heavy project, especially after all the work he'd done in rebuilding the Earth Kingdom. But he made sure the crumbling temples were restored, and, in a stroke of surprising political brilliance, declared the space a neutral zone.

The beauty of it was there was no one to oppose his idea, and no reason anyone who would want to. Unbelievably, after the war, even though the Fire Nation had won, the fighters were few.

I think it's because by that point too many people had gotten dragged into the whole mess, and everyone was tired of the constant strife. So, when Zuko took the throne, all he had to do was play the good guy. Even a dictator can be dealt with, so long as his people are happy enough with him. Kind of a pick-your-poison game.

But I'm not fooled. Whatever "humanitarian" actions His High High Highness pretends to take, it's all a game. In some ways Fire Lord Zuko (I still think the title sounds stupid on him) was smarter than his father. Ozai liked to use force to get his way; Zuko is better at playing politics.

And that's why I had to try. To bring together those who remember, who are not afraid to think for themselves, who realize there is something very wrong with this world and want to make it change.

"Psst."

I turn my head to the left. It's Ro, the first ally I found after I managed to escape the Fire Nation. He is a serious guy, and a good fighter, with all the same instincts I have, except for his disturbing calmness; nothing rattles Ro.

"Yeah?" I hiss back.

"We have to talk." His tone is low, but he's leaning close and I hear him loud and clear.

I nod once and put a finger to my lips. "Hey!" I holler, standing up shakily in the moving wagon and picking my way over the limp arms of my sleeping friends. There's a small space in the wood for communication purposes. "You guard people! Stop the cart, would you? I gotta take a leak!"

My shouting has started waking up some of the guys, and they're beginning to yawn and groan. "Keep quiet, huh?" one of them mutters (probably Yune, he's a cranky rat when he's tired).

"Shut up," I toss back at him. "Not all of us pissed ourselves dry with fear when that moose-lion was sniffing around last night."

A bunch of the guys laugh, and I'm pretty sure I hear one of the guards out front chuckle too.

"Hold on," one of the guards barks to us. "You'll get your piss if you shut up."

The whole cart lurches forward and everyone complains at once, but at least we've stopped moving.

I feel Ro's hand on my shoulder. "Come on," he mutters, pushing me towards the opening of the cart.

I nod once and walk with him, ignoring the noises of my friends.

The wood groans as the tiny door opens. I sniff the air, surprised at how warm it's become. Of course, we are heading to the Fire Nation, and it's always warmer there than anywhere else.

"Two at a time," a guard growls behind me, stopping any others from following Ro and me. "Be quick about it, and remember, we're watching you."

I nod and follow Ro into the woods. Once we're almost but not entirely hidden by the trees, and pretending to take our hard earned piss, I whisper, "How many?"

"Near as I can tell, twenty." Ro sounds perfectly serene. "Two of the well-dressed ones are gone – the older man and one of the others." He shifts behind me, stretching out his sore limbs. "It seems like they took six or seven other men with them."

"They're riding ahead," I muse, cracking my neck.

"I guess so."

I smile. "You know what that means?"

I don't have to look at Ro to know he's frowning. "It means we're ahead of schedule." He pauses. "And that someone important is waiting to greet us."

"Exactly." I crack my knuckles. "Give it another week or two and we'll have reached the Fire Nation. I'll give you three guesses where they're planning to take us, and the first two don't count."

Ro chuckles softly. "I never thought I'd see the inside of the Fire Nation capital, much less the palace. I feel honored."

I snort. "It's not all that great, trust me."

I must sound more resentful than I've intended, because I feel Ro's hand on my shoulder. "You okay?" he asks.

"Sure." I shrug him off.

"You know, we could always –"

"No." I turn around, facing Ro. "We stick to the plan. It will work. We'll get it right this time."

He's quiet for a minute. "For the boomerang," he finally concedes.

I nod and smile faintly. "You know it."

"Pack it in!" One of the senior guardsmen is calling to us. "We've got three more sets to get through, and no piss break is going to delay us. Your time is up."

Surprisingly, I grin to myself, because I know better than that. Our time is hardly 'up' – our time is coming, speeding down the mountains of the Earth Kingdom, and it's going to hit like a rock slide.

* * *

WD94: So a little more information on the world. Obviously in my version of the war more countries got involved in more serious ways (when Avatar said 'war' I was thinking, full out _war_, but apparently that was too much animating to be done at once).

And yes, I have always thought that Zuko, whether good or evil, would have been good at playing politics. Splitting the Water Tribes would have been easy - seriously, they're a geographical disaster. And jockeying himself into the good guy position by restoring the Air Temples seems like a good use for the abandoned area. Oh, I just love it!


	21. Chapter 21

WiltingDaises94: Happy February, everybody! So, before writing this chapter I forced myself to sit down and think, and I can officially say I know where the rest of this story is going (and the approximate number of chapters it will take me to get there). I've got a couple chapters that need fleshing out, of course, but the basic trajectory is ready to go.

I'm glad to hear that you all enjoyed last chapter's shift in perspective, but as this story is Zutarian, we're back with Zuko this chapter. Also, prepare for the introduction of a character you heard about a long time ago. Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 21

The palace is buzzing like an angry, demented beehive, anxious to meet the demands of the Midsummer Festival. Everywhere one looks, servants are bustling, maids flitting from room to room brandishing their cleaning equipment, butchers preparing massive quantities of meat to deliver to the already frantic cooks.

The Festival has begun, and, as always, the days leading up to the Dance of Streets are suffocating. I've been sitting through audience after audience, and I'm almost certain my rear is growing attached to my throne.

All the minor nobles are gathering for the occasion, and that has meant endless rounds of greetings; presentation and exchange of gifts; a little intrigue with the Lady Yan; frankly, the whole business is exhausting, and I'm less than a moment from ordering everyone out of the way and returning to my apartments.

The stress of the Festival is throwing my mind into chaos, and I struggle to concentrate, keep myself in check. 'She is working as fast as her devious intentions allow her,' I remind myself at least once an hour. 'Patience.'

But it gnaws at me. Secretly, Ty Lee is getting far too much pleasure out of her task, and the bitch is absolutely milking it for all its worth. For all her talent in the bedroom, I'd never have Ty Lee for a queen; she's nimble and intelligent, but slippery as an eel and self interested as a sunbathing kitten.

_"This must be it," Ty Lee says, her tone serious. "The plant will need some refining to unleash its best properties, and you'll want it in powder form, if I don't miss my guess."_

_ "Why?" I question, eagerly leaning over her shoulder to try and decipher the mystery of her messy workspace. _

_ Her eyes hold a flash of contempt, but she keeps the scoffing to herself. "Considering you put the Avatar into his current state with a powdered substance, the reversal should be applied via the same medium."_

_ "Of course." I mentally berate myself, but there's little I can do. Ty Lee will write it off as my own poor memory; she doesn't know that Azula is the one who invented and threw the powder, not I. And provided I'm careful enough, she never will._

_ "Anyway," she continues, "I knew the plant was potent, but as our resident botanical expert is the same sluggish fool who works in my apartments, I had a small, insubstantial conversation with him."_

_ "Spare me the scorn, Ty Lee," I growl exasperatedly. "I've certainly had enough whining for the time being, what with the damned Festival stealing all my time." I feel my nostrils flare and try to reign in my short temper. "Now, what did the old man tell you?"_

_ Ty Lee rolls her eyes and begins sorting through the materials on her crowded desktop. "He told me that the leaves are very poor at retaining water once detached from the root." She stretches gracefully and elongates her back, reaching for something. "Here it is."_

_ "So?" I prod, crossing my arms. _

_ Ty Lee smirks. "So, Your Royal Highness, I left a leaf out on one of the crystals overnight. And..." She opens her hand and offers me the specimen._

_ I take it from her, curiosity overriding my disgust. Ty Lee spent months developing a method of freezing beetles into crystals similar to the Avatar's prison. It is unfortunate that I should have to touch such vermin, even covered, but as I examine the crystal I realize there is an entire segment that's been melted off._

_ "It worked like a charm." Ty Lee is positively grinning now. "The liquid, once released, simply ate away at the crystal in no time at all."_

_ I nod. "Excellent." My eyes are bright and I stare fixedly at the deformed crystal."How soon can you bring me a full bottle dose?"_

_ Ty Lee drums her fingers on the desk. "Well," she says slowly, "I'll need time for refining of course… and I should run some more trials… and I'l need to work the liquid into a different form... mm, I should be able to bring you the finished product…" she calculates, "early evening on the day of the Dance of Streets."_

_ I smile crookedly. "Perfect." I hold out my hand and begin to flame the crystal, watching as the imitation begins to melt. The frozen beetle begins to squirm as the heat revives it, and in moments its legs are twitching furiously. _

_ Ty Lee raises her eyebrows at the display, but doesn't comment. "I'll bring it to you then," she says quietly. "As soon as it's finished."_

_ "Excellent." I watch the beetle disintegrate in a glorious mass of writhing limbs, until my hand is empty. I feel a surge of energy, strange and unpredictable, and brush off my hands. "Excellent." _

I grip the armrests of my throne. Everything is going according to my plans: Ty Lee is nearly finished with my powder, the Avatar has stayed successfully out of my dreams, and Katara is back.

That does bring my pleasure among all this nonsense. The subtle shift has occurred; I can see it behind her eyes. Her old kick, that precious, temperamental fighting spirit – it's back. Truly brilliant; every time I see her I my chambers I have to stop myself from grinning like a fool.

All is coming to a head at once. By the end of the week the Avatar will be dead and Katara will finally be broken.

And, I remind myself, the week after that those pesky Earth Kingdom rebels will arrive.

For all my exhaustion and frustration, I really could clap my hands and do a small dance. Everything I want is falling into place, in order. Soon enough there will be nothing standing between me and becoming the most powerful bender in the world.

I grin.

I do love to win.

"Majesty?" A tall, stern guard enters the room and bows. "Lord Jo Kai Me has arrived with his eldest son. They refuse to refresh themselves and request an immediate audience with Your Highness." He pauses, trying to remember the entire message. "His Lordship brings news of the Earth Kingdom prisoners."

I nod, my attention caught. "Very well. I shall grant them an audience; send in His Lordship."

"At once, Majesty." The guard bows and is gone.

I settle in my throne, straightening my back and fixing wrinkles out of my robes. I've been interested in meeting Lord Jo Kai Me, a man whose reputation as a bender precedes him, and an obviously valuable ally.

What sort of man, I wonder, would train his own children to be a flawless, massacring machine? Someone with the military prestige and ability, of course, but there has to be a hardness there, a desire for perfection.

I grimace a bit, imagining the Lord Jo Kai Me to be a bit too much like my father for comfort. Ozai was powerful, but ruthless, and although I had a grudging respect for the man as a bender, I never loved my father. He was cruel to his wife, his children, his brother… and his politics lacked all innovation.

Grudgingly, I can admit to understanding what my father was doing with the "violence and fear" strategy, and a small part of me can't help but imitate the style from time to time. Judge me if you will, but reign of terror has its appeals – absolute control, an unparalleled feeling invincibility – and certain moral unsteadiness can be useful tool.

But I always knew there was more he could have done.

I used to talk politics with Iroh. My uncle knew much more about ruling a country than my father; unfortunately he was too soft to ever take the crown.

It was Iroh's idea to establish the Air Temples as neutral territory. The politics behind the final execution were mine; creating a spiritual center for those wishing to retire from the world was never high on my list of priorities – at least, until I had a reason to do so.

It is true, I muse, that Iroh had a good head for international relations. He connected with other people far better than I ever have; diplomacy was a skill I had to teach myself. Politics I can handle, but inter-personal relations are not my strong point. Therefore, as a small homage to my uncle's inspiration, I've set in motion several of his more useful innovations.

I frown a bit.

And conversely, for purposes of revenge, I've mixed it with a carefully controlled version of my father's ferocity.

However, before I have time to relive that particular betrayal, the doors to the audience hall swing open, and in walk two men: Lord Jo Kai Mei and (presumably) his son.

Although His Lordship does not look nearly as old as he is, it is impossible not to recognize him. Everything from his gait to the snap of his robes behind him radiates power and decisiveness, and it almost chafes at me, a prickly feeling running up my spine at the grim slant of his mouth.

The son is harder to read, wearing the same robes as his father, but a far more inscrutable expression. His hand is clasped tightly on the sword hanging from his belt, and I immediately assume he is the son trained to wield the traditional, single-handed straight sword. There is a tension in his shoulders that suggests years of attention; the man is like a loaded trap, ready to lash out on a moment's notice.

"Your Majesty." The Lord and his son drop simultaneous bows and I am surprisingly entertained by how similar their mannerisms are. There's an odd reassurance in that; nothing in me ever seemed to resemble my father.

"My Lord Jo Kai Mei," I reply, nodding to the son. No rule of etiquette dictates that I must address him by name (which is fortunate, considering I don't know his name). Having been in that position myself, I know what his job is as the eldest son: to stand by respectfully and listen. "Welcome to the Illustrious Fire Nation; it is our pleasure to receive you as an ally and friend."

Lord Jo Kai Mei makes a tight motion with his mouth that might be a smile; I can tell he's appraising me behind his disturbingly indecipherable eyes. "It is our honor to be sent as representatives of our homeland," he says diplomatically, "and to bring Your Highness news from King Lho, 53rd Ruler of the Mighty Earth Kingdom."

"Indeed." I lean on the arm of my throne, raising my eyebrows. "I hear you have news of my prisoners."

Lord Jo Kai Mei nods and signals to his son, who relaxes his stance. "Regarding your prisoners, then," he agrees tacitly. "I am afraid they will be arriving slightly ahead of the schedule Your Majesty was told to expect."

"What?" I ask sharply, scowling.

The Lord is solid as a rock. "The retinue of guards sent along with the wagon was eager to please Your Majesty. It seems they have herded the prisoners more…forcefully… than they had need to." He is unsurprisingly dispassionate at the mistreatment of other Earth Kingdom nationals.

"And when," I ask quietly, huffing out my nose, "are you anticipating their arrival?"

Lord Jo Kai Mei is perfectly frank. "They will be here," he replies, "almost two weeks in advance. This is what my son and I rode ahead to inform you of." His body shifts very subtly into a defensive position. "I would expect the prisoners to arrive in roughly six days."

Excellent, a voice in my head hisses as I grit my teeth. Just in time for the Dance of Streets.

* * *

WD94: Oh so much going on. I love me some good politics. And as much as I adore Zuko - can we say daddy issues?

Iroh, oh Iroh, oh what have you done? I suppose you'll have to wait and find out, but I thought you all might like the little heads up.


	22. Chapter 22

WiltingDaisies94: So I had this chapter originally planned as another lesson for Katara, but there was some call for a Zuko/Katara chapter. And yes, you are right; this story is about the two of them, together and apart. I've just been busy with other things going on around them, the factors that will affect them which need to be put in place.

But on your requests I did some rewriting and made a couple changes so that this chapter can include our two main characters together. I don't want to give anything away, but be sure to drop me your thoughts on the way out, okay?

* * *

Chapter 22

I sit curled up on my cot, my cheek in my hand, a scroll open in front of me. I've been attempting to read through it, but my mind keeps flipping back to my lesson with Master Jhou. Much has happened today; my head is still trying to process it all, a task that's proving exceedingly difficult.

_"No more delay, waterbender," Master Jhou says abruptly, once I've finished going through my exercises. "It is time to train you in the art of eye-bending."_

_ My eyes widen; although I've gotten much of my bending back under control, I'm still grasping to reach the skill level I had during the Great War. My hands are finally forming water correctly again – the idea of using my eyes is daunting to say the least. _

_ "Yes, I know," Master Jhou says, reading my expression perfectly. "It is early, in point of fact, much earlier than I had anticipated."_

_ I shrug my shoulders, asking why, my forehead wrinkling in confusion. I don't understand why the Master would start me on a skill that he believes me unready for. Sometimes I think it's a good thing I refuse to speak; I imagine Master Jhou and I would get on much worse if I were the sort of person who asked questions. _

_ "That is not to say," Master Jhou says crisply, "that you are incapable of conquering eye-bending quickly. "As I've explained, the technique has rarely been taught; for centuries it has been quietly ignored."_

_ I begin to shift on the balls of my feet; I am nervous and excited, a horrible combination that tends to make my stomach turn. _

_ "Things have been moving faster than I originally anticipated they would. An old friend of mine has informed me that certain factors have sped up…" he trails off, not ruffled but almost… embarrassed?_

_ "I would not have it done like this if I had another choice," he grumbles, "but as I do not, I will be very blunt with you." He pause ominously and grimaces. "You have six days to learn the technique."_

_ I'm fairly certain my jaw is on the ground somewhere. Six days! To figure out eye-bending, a skill it took Master Jhou years to learn? How can he expect me to possibly make that happen, it's a completely unreasonable request!_

_ "I know." Master Jhou scowls, crossing his arms belligerently. "It is not the protocol I would have chosen, and I realize the pressures this places on you. But I think, waterbender," he says fairly, "that if you are desperate and decisive enough, you may be able to achieve the goal."_

_ He comes toward me, looking suddenly severe. "Now close your mouth and focus yourself. There is much to learn and precious little time. Plant your feet and put your hands together."_

_ At least his insistence is a grounding force, and my mouth shuts of its own accord. Mechanically my limbs fall into place as the common sensation of the Master's voice washes over me._

Why?

I close my eyes, completely giving up on my ability to read. It's been running through my head ever since the morning. Why is Master Jhou in such a hurry to teach me? Who is this friend of his who's told him to speed the process? And as always, the question rings in my mind: what is it I'm being trained for?

Yes, I've been a willing student; at first to regain my bending ability, and then out of pure curiosity. But slowly the curiosity has turned to irritation, which has been fueling my training ever since.

I wish Master Jhou would just tell me what he has planned. I run a hand through my hair, frustrated as the golden band I'm wearing gets in my way. Breathing out sharply, I push it back into place.

"Good afternoon, Katara."

I look up. The Fire Lord is standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame with all the nonchalance of the world.

I give him a nod acknowledgment, lowering my eyes and moving to rise.

"Would you come with me?" the Fire Lord asks, holding out a hand and crooking his fingers. "If," he adds, glancing curiously at my reading material, "you are not too busy."

Instantly I roll up the scroll.

"I shall take that as a yes, then?"

I nod and attempt to smile, now standing up. I move towards the Fire Lord and hesitantly take his outstretched hand.

It's a bizarre feeling. His hand is not nearly as hot as I expected it to be, only harmlessly warm. My instinct is still to pull away; half of me expects him to heat his hand and burn mine hideously any moment.

But as he leads me through the corridors, all I feel is the firm grasp of his hand and the careful tightening and loosening of his fingers.

"You must be wondering where I am taking you," the Fire Lord tells me in an even tone, and he is right. "What with the planning for the Midsummer Festival, I'm afraid I've been slightly neglectful of you."

I find myself shaking my head in denial and wonder at it. The Fire Lord has changed so greatly over the last few weeks. Every time I see him or he speaks to me, there is a courteousness that baffles me.

I can't help my own suspicions. Two years of mistrust and mistreatment have it ingrained in my head – never believe the Fire Lord.

So why is he holding my hand? And why am I allowing him to do so?

"I realize it has been some time since you've been out in the fresh air." He looks at me and smiles easily.

I smile in return; if only he knew how much time I have spent outside recently.

"I hope you will pardon me for not revealing more," the Fire Lord continues, waving an apologetic hand, "but I had been hoping to surprise you with this little venture."

Instant curiosity floods my brain and I start to consider the possibilities. Think like a firebender, I remember, going back to my lessons with the Master. _"They are selfish… impersonal… they are planners."_

Somewhere with fresh air, that's all he's told me so far. But, I consider, he'll want to keep me inside. No matter how kindly he treats me, I am still a slave in his palace. He has to keep me inside… and take me outside… at the same time?

"I hope you haven't been too overcome with work from the Festival; I know it can be an all-consuming event." The Fire Lord's tone seems genuinely concerned, but I hear a note of calculation.

"I know that you've been aiding Master Jhou," he goes on. "Which I'm certain is more interesting than all the meetings and audiences I've had to attend." His voice is wry with remembrance.

Where is he taking me? I nod my head, pretending to listen; I've gotten very proficient at that. What would he want to show me? Firebenders go for the sharp attack, things that will cripple their opponent, but subtlety is important as well.

"Well I doubt you'd enjoy hearing much about matters of diplomacy. Every year it seems more people flood the city for the Festival." His conversation is so light and easy, tempting me away from figuring out his motives.

"I remember once, when I was a child… yes, I must have been eight years old or so… a delegate from one of the border cities (I can't recall which) arrived. He was the sternest looking old man I'd ever seen, and _that wa_s quite a feat. Well," he interrupts himself casually, "you have met my father, so I suppose that gives you an idea of who I judge against."

I nearly nod at that, but collect myself in time.

"Anyway, I recall thinking that the man looked as though his idea of fun was causing the tears of innocent children." The Fire Lord shakes his head, chuckling a bit to himself. "How wrong I was about that. Later I caught sight of the delegate during the Dance of Streets and did I ever learn a lesson that night."

I look at him, eyebrows creeping slowly up my forehead.

The Fire Lord grins. "Simply because a man looks likes he could double for the statue of your disapproving grandfather, doesn't mean he won't drink like a fish."

I laugh silently. I know I shouldn't, but he's dreadfully distracting, and I know precisely the sort of person he's talking about. For a cruel man he has an unfairly nice smile, and it's so odd to see him enjoying himself.

"It would seem that some of our guests are more bearable drunk than sober." The Fire Lord uses his free hand to brush a stray lock of hair out of his face. "Come," he says, pulling me down an out of the way corridor. "It's just through here."

We must have descended a few levels by now. I'm fairly certain by now that the Fire Lord's apartments are on the third or fourth floor of the complex. I think the real trick is that there are few sets of stairs in the palace, only sloping floors, which severely diminish my ability to judge how far up or down I've gone.

"Inside." The Fire Lord opens a heavy door and urges me inside. "Quickly, if you would."

I move forward and almost shield my eyes at the difference in light. The room is flooded with sunlight, which is not surprising, considering the entire ceiling is made of glass. I feel my mouth open wide for the second time that day and a small gasp of air rushes out.

It's an aviary.

Chirping fills my ears and the sound of birds taking wing is breathtaking. My head tilts back until my neck won't possibly allow it to go further. Everywhere I look birds of all colors and sizes are flying, preening, singing.

It's a truly stunning space, filled with small trees and bushes for the birds to use. The ceiling is a carefully crafted dome with panels of different colored glass, and the sunlight floods the room, flickering in reds and blues across the ground. The whole thing is absolutely amazing.

"Do you like it?" the Fire Lord asks from behind me, pleased at my wonder.

I nod helplessly. Now I understand exactly how he can take me outside without actually doing so. The aviary is indoors, but with all the life of the outside world, the movement and natural beauty.

"Would you like me to call one down?"

I'm powerless against the beauty of it all, and I'm having a miserable time trying not to be too touched by the Fire Lord's effort. I reach out my hand, holding out a finger, and within moments a small bird alights on it.

The Fire Lord is amused. "It seems you do not need my help."

The bird is lovely, with a deep blue plumage that runs with white and black speckles. Its beak has a curious yellow stripe on the underside, and it looks at me with wickedly intelligent eyes.

"She's a golden-mouthed seabird." The Fire Lord moves forward and joins me, stroking a hand down the back of the bird. "I had several brought in from the coasts when I first had the aviary built; they're very smart creatures. They can fly for days over the open ocean without tiring and scent food from miles away."

Apparently the bird figures out that I have no food to offer her, and she flies off, her tiny claws barely stinging my skin as she moves away. There's a touch of gold on her wingtips as well, I notice.

I turn to the Fire Lord, silently thankful for my two years of experience in being quiet. This aviary may be the most beauteous thing I've seen since my arrival in the Fire Nation, and my mouth aches to express its approval.

"I know you might imagine it in a cynical light, but I don't breed any birds of prey." He directs my gaze upwards. "The birds here are mostly singers, like the whistle-blowers up there. Their feathers are not impressive; notice how plain and brown they seem against the seabirds? But there are no sweeter musicians in the sky. Just listen to them."

I close my eyes, breathing deeply. I focus, isolating the song among the random warbles flitting through the room. I hear the whistle-blowers, their high pitches soaring over the rest. Oh! It's so perfect.

How confusing it all is. I can feel tears forming behind my eyelids. I hate how kind he pretends to be and despise myself even more for wanting to believe it. I know the sort of man the Fire Lord is – I've felt first hand his evil ways and I should not forgive him for his treatment of me. Not ever.

But for all that… he plays such a good face that it makes my heart angry and sad and confused all at once.

I move, turning my back on the Fire Lord, resolute not to let him see my tears. I take some steps forward, moving blindly. I try and swallow back the tears, adamant that they will not fall, and halt my shallow breathing.

Luckily the Fire Lord is not paying me much attention; I can hear him coaxing down a bird, cooing at it.

Calmed somewhat, I breath out and open my eyes, where a few tears still linger. I'm looking down at a trough filled with water for the birds; there is no stream or pond in the room. The water is tranquil, completely unstirred.

Out of nowhere one of the birds come swooping down, skimming its claws along the surface. Without a movement of my head, my eyes instantly follow the creature, and before I realize what's happening, I see a flicker of water reach out and snag the bird's leg.

I gasp, jumping back. I look down at my hands, which haven't moved from my sides, and stare up in horror. The bird is beating its wings ferociously, cawing and trying to escape the water's hold.

An instant panic overcomes me – what if the Fire Lord sees? I lift my hand and quickly pull it into a fist. The water settles down immediately, and the bird flies away, freed.

I barely realize how badly I'm shaking. It's impossible, impossible; I cannot have just done that. I've only just begun to learn the basics of eye-bending – I can't have figured it out already. I have no idea what I'm doing, what I've just done or how it's come about.

"Katara, come here. I have a friend here who I think you'll like very much."

The Fire Lord beckons me and I try to collect myself. If nothing else, I'm now blind to the beauty of the aviary; I want nothing more than to get out of this room and get some much needed rest.

Still breathing shallowly, I move over to the Fire Lord, my head a million miles away.

* * *

WiltingDaisies94: Oh Zuko... He's so good and so bad and Katara knows it, but how can she help loving his sweetness, even if she thinks it's fake?

As for the birds and the eye-bending... well like I said before, this chapter was not exactly planned... if you'll pardon the pun, I'd say I winged it.

Let me know how you liked it!


	23. Chapter 23

**WiltingDaisies94**: Hello all. Before we get to reading there were a few review questions I would like to clear up from the last chapter.

Jemilover: Yes, Katara is mute by choice. Choosing silence was her original punishment to Zuko, so as much as he tried to hurt her, he would never feel as if he succeeded. And I'm sorry if the fight scenes are too detailed, but one of the things that always gets me with Avatar is when characters pick up skills without much screen time showing them learning. It seems unrealistic to me.

Daveshan: And that brings me to your comment (which by the way, was a very chuckle worthy review). Just because this turn seems immediate, doesn't mean there is no reason behind it. Read through the end of this chapter and Katara picking up eye-bending (even by accident) so quickly will make a lot more sense.

AnnaAza: You are very on track in realizing that Master Jhou also has a deadline. He's a character to watch, always has been. And as for Katara... well, would you be training her to fight if you didn't have some sort of agenda in mind?

Okay, I think that's everything. This chapter we're going to see someone we haven't caught up with since Chapter 10. Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 23

"So was it bothering you all evening?"

I look up quickly, staring at Ayza, who is pawing around in a drawer on the other side of infirmary.

Ayza smiles and it gives me an unforgiving, eerie feeling. "The scratch, I mean," she adds, glancing at me.

Oh.

Right.

I nod, and look back down at my hand. An unpleasant looking cut runs from my wrist up the inside of my palm. One of the birds became particularly irritated with me yesterday; I was anxious, still thinking about my impossible experience, and squeezed him too hard. He ripped a nice bit of my skin up as punishment.

"Do you know what kind of bird it was, by chance?"

No, I don't. I shake my head slowly from side to side, only half listening to what Ayza is saying. After a restless night, my brain is beginning to shut down, angry at me for not providing it with enough sleep.

"Well, that would be useful information. Ah well." Ayza sighs and finds whatever it is she's searching for. "There we are. First we'll wash the cut with this, just to make sure it's properly clean." She's perfectly cheerful as she collects her instruments and approaches me.

And it's making me uncomfortable. It has been a long time since our last meeting, and now, with the irritating paranoia master Jhou has worked into my already hyper-active system, along with my natural mistrust of Fire Nation people, I find myself suspicious of Ayza.

As much I want to like her, there are things Ayza seems to know far too inexplicably for me to take her at face value. I'm still not sure I can trust her sympathies; after all, the first time I met her was when the Fire Lord brought me to her for inspection. It's more than likely she's working for him, and not only as a healer.

And though at the time I liked and took comfort from her story about the waterbender (what had his name been? Kya? Koi?) now I can't help questioning it. What Fire Nation child would not be able to recognize the flag colors of the four nations? More importantly, what privileged Fire Nation child would have spoken to a sailor? And why would she have remembered the tribesman's sign of peace after all these years?

"Hold out your hand, please?" Ayza requests, and I comply. She opens the small bottle she's holding and a powerfully unpleasant smell reaches my nose. I gag a little at the stench and try not to breathe through my nose.

"Sorry," she apologizes with a hapless shrug. "It's pretty awful, isn't it? I'm not an enormous fan of the odor either, but there is nothing better for making sure wounds don't get infected."

I watch her dab some of the liquid onto a white cloth; it spills out clear.

"This will sting," she warns, taking my outstretched hand in her own warm palm.

It does, and I refrain from wincing.

"There." Ayza smiles and recaps the bottle, cutting off the hideous smell. "Now just give me a moment to wrap the scratch and I'll return you to Master Jhou."

I nod, watching carefully as she turns around. She seems so good... but I cannot forget that she is Fire Nation. Ayza would be so ideal if she were on the right side; accepting of another nation's customs, curious and interested in learning them. But she is here, a helper to the man who imprisons me.

And I truly wish she weren't.

Ah!

The liquid has an unanticipated after-sting, and it takes me by surprise. I hiss, drawing in my breath sharply, and my hand twitches involuntarily.

I hear Ayza's sweet laugh as she comes back towards me. "Pleasant little substance, isn't it?" she jokes, rolling her eyes good-naturedly. "Mistress Ty Lee was the one who introduced it in the palace. She's actually quite talented with plants and mixtures and such."

I smile ironically; talented and evil seem to go hand-in-hand around here.

Ayza wraps my hand a few times in a clean linen, tying a neat knot at the end to keep it in place. "She stops by the infirmary on occasion, for supplies and the like."

I nod, not really listening again, though not from exhaustion this time. Whatever Ayza put on my open cut is producing an odd tingling sensation, and I'm struggling not to wave my hand emphatically from side to side.

"I think she's been working on something particular for a while yet," Ayza chatters on in the background. "She has been coming by much more frequently of late."

"Is that so?"

We both whip our heads around at the new voice; I recognize it immediately. Master Jhou is standing in the doorway, his sloped shoulders making him appear grouchier than usual.

"Good morning, Master Jhou," Ayza greets cheerfully, bobbing her head in acknowledgment.

"Indeed." He enters the room fully, moving with his familiar awkward gait. "What is this you say about my mistress?" he asks nonchalantly.

Ayza flushes slightly. "Oh, nothing of importance. Only that she has come by to borrow some containers and whatnot from the infirmary." She is still smiling, but I detect a seriousness hiding in her eyes that I can't place.

I think Master Jhou sees it as well, but he chooses to ignore it. "Ah," he replies noncommittally, and in an instant he returns to his usual pattern of acting with others; inoffensive and polite. "Well, is there anything you should wish I see returned?"

"What?" Ayza shakes her head quickly. "Oh no, not at all. I did not mean to imply that I was impatient or dissatisfied." She crosses her arms and looks innocently at the Master, moving on. "Now, is there anything I can do for you?"

The Master quirks a brow, his lips upturning slightly. "Well, if you are done fixing my assistant, perhaps I could have her back?"

Ayza smiles and motions me to stand up. "Of course," she says genially. "I think she's patched up well enough for the time being." She turns to me. "Try not to put too much pressure on your hand, though. The easier you go on it, the faster it will heal."

Master Jhou looks at me severely while Ayza speaks to me. "What exactly has she done to herself?" he inquires.

I hate it when Master Jhou talks about me as if I'm not present, and I've a sneaking suspicion he knows that, which is precisely why he does it. I narrow my eyes at him when Ayza is no longer facing me.

"No need for worry, Master. The Fire Lord took Katara to the aviary last night, and one of the birds gave her a nasty scratch." She turns sympathetic eyes on me. "It seems she squeezed one of the poor things slightly too hard, and it saw fit to retaliate."

Master Jhou's face is impassive, but I can guess at his thoughts. He'll never let it show to Ayza, but he's dissecting every possible reason I might have accidentally harmed a bird. He's trying to imagine why the Fire Lord would take me to the aviary, why last night, why everything that occurred has happened exactly the way it has.

"A harmless enough mistake, and entirely unintentional on her part, I am sure," he says in a tone light enough to soothe Ayza and alert me. "Are you sufficiently finished then?"

"Oh yes, certainly." Ayza smiles at me, entirely unaware of the tense vibes the Master and I are exchanging. "You are welcome to go, Katara."

I nod my head deeply, thanking her for her help, though I know I'll take a few minutes during my lesson to heal the cut.

As soon as we step into the hallway, Master Jhou pounces. "What is this about the Fire Lord taking you to the aviary?" he asks sharply.

I shrug irritably; his guess is still as good as mine.

"And why did you attempt to strangle one of the birds?" His gravelly tones have gotten impossibly darker and deeper. "I commend you for attempting to hide the emotion, but there is fear written all across your face, waterbender."

I turn to look at him, exasperated already by his questioning. I did not purposefully hurt the bird; I was a little distracted by the terrifying notion that I would accidentally start bending in front of the Fire Lord, who would proceed to blast me into oblivion. Beginning to bend with a complicated, unknown pattern for utterly inapparent reasons is the sort of thing that will make you clench your hands.

Master Jhou walks along through the shadows of the hallway, calm to a fault. "Explain to me what frightened you," he orders without transition.

I shake my head, trying to convey that I don't know how, but Master Jhou will have none of it.

"Don't you dare," he hisses at me. "You do not deny the truth when you are in my presence. You know your circumstances, even if you do not understand them." I can hear him reigning in his agitation. "I will understand on your behalf. Now explain."

I stop moving, and he turns around. When I'm certain he's watching my face, I position my hands in a basic bending stance, and give an imitation of water style movement.

"Yes," the Master agrees. "Go on."

Breathing deeply, I move one hand in front of my face and point two fingers at my eyes.

"What?" It's dim, but I imagine Master Jhou's eyes have gone a bit wider. His whole posture changes, becomes straighter, more on edge. "What?" he repeats tersely.

The shaky feeling is back, and I nod helplessly. I can't even think of another way to express it; I eye-bent with water. I did it, it happened, and I have no idea why.

Master Jhou reaches out, seizing my arm in a painful, firm grasp, and begins to hurry me along the corridors. "You do realize," he says, talking smoothly despite his hellish pace, "the impossibility of what you are indicating?"

I grimace, making an uncomfortable grunting noise as his fingers tighten. Yes, damn it, I know what I'm alleging! I nod viciously up and down.

"Ridiculous." Master Jhou drags me down a side corridor with a dead end. He releases my arm and pushes me in front of him. "You must have done something... you must have found a circumstance... even I spent the better part of a decade..." he's trying to rationalize, and all the while he advances, pushing me backward. "How did you do it? What did you do?"

I don't know! My heard swings back and forth, and all the terror I felt at the time is returning freshly.

"Tell me!" Master Jhou demands, his volume no louder, but every word stabbing fiercely. "Forget your silence and tell me what you have done!"

I look away from his face, angry, terrified, tears beginning to drip down my cheeks. I want to shout, scream, prove that I have no idea how I managed a trick that even a Master took ten years to discover!

"Did he see?" Master Jhou grabs my forearms and roughly shakes me. "Did the Fire Lord see you bend?" He whispers the word "bend" as if he can't even say it out loud for fear of my secret being revealed. "I must know, girl!"

My lips are pressed together and I hate the fact that I'm crying. I feel weak and sick to my stomach, and I look into Master Jhou's face, all the hatred in my soul mustered into my expression.

And the most stunning thing happens.

Master Jhou lets go of my arms and steps back.

The hallway is perfectly quiet, and the air hums softly around us to fill the silence. We stand opposite each other, master and student, powerful and vulnerable, neither of us saying a word. So many thoughts are flickering over Master Jhou's face at once that I can't discern them; I merely stand, feeling my tears slip farther down my face, disappearing over the edge of my chin.

Master Jhou reaches out his hand, and I hold my ground, promising myself not to flinch away. His hand comes nearer and nearer, floating through the space between us, until it almost touches me. Just when I want most to close my eyes and look away, one finger extends, drawing a thin line down my cheek.

It rests for only a moment before pulling away. I watch Master Jhou examine his finger, now wet from following the trail of my tears. "Tell me," he whispers, every word serious and jarring as he rubs his fingers together, "when you bent with your eyes..." He trails off, and for a second I think the Master has given up on the question. He seems transfixed by my tears; he's not looking at me.

But I'm wrong. He continues an instant later.

"When you bent with your eyes," he asks distinctly, dangerously, slowly, "did you happen to be crying?"

* * *

WD94: Get it now?


	24. Chapter 24

WiltingDaisies94: Hey everyone, happy April! Spring is finally here, and my ability to focus is sort of out the window (not for fanfics of course, but in general). I am ready for this story to get a move on, and as much as you want Zuko/Katara scenes, there are lots of other things going on, so please be patient with it!

POV change in the middle of the chapter - that's what the line break is there to indicate.

Lots of reveals in this chapter, so I won't write anything more. Just go read and if you have sunshine wherever you are, enjoy it!

* * *

Chapter 24

_"Water." Master Jhou paces up and down in front of me. "Fool, I can't believe this did not occur to me before."_

_I'm listening, while simultaneously trying to focus. I'm staring intently forward at the thinnest stream of water I've ever bent, suspended vertically in the air. I'm trying my hardest not to blink, and it's beginning to make my eyes itch._

_Master Jhou is shaking his head in my peripheral vision. "Water. Of course."_

_Please, elaborate, my brain is seething, and my eyes are dying to follow Master Jhou's movements. The water in midair is quivering agitatedly, and I try to regain my focus; in a second I'm gritting my teeth._

_"You were crying," Master Jhou says crisply. "When you eye-bent, you were crying."_

_I barely nod, afraid to move my head out of place as the stream of water wriggles and writhes._

_"Tears," Master Jhou elucidates, "are liquid. They are, in essence, water."_

_I restrain myself from rolling my eyes. So what?_

_"Consider: the main medium of your eyes is liquid." Master Jhou crosses his arms. "Your eyes have water in them, are a form of liquid themselves. And," he explains pointedly, "when one bends, it is best to use the same medium."_

_I slowly move my eyes to the left, trying to control the stream, which follows a bit reluctantly, but surely._

_"And because I am an earthbender," he speculates, no longer really talking to me, "it took so long a time to learn the skill. Earth is a solid element, it is no surprise that it was incompatible with the fluid medium of water in the eye."_

_The water floats lazily through the air, and I turn my head to go with it._

_"But for you," Mater Jhou says, moving beside me, "you are working from water to water. The tears must have enhanced that connection."_

_I turn my head sharply to look at him, so completely serious is his tone. The delicate stream of water loses its suspension and splashes to the ground, where it is immediately absorbed into the dirt._

"Katara?"

I blink. I am looking at the Fire Lord, who is glancing down at me with an amused expression on his face.

"I asked what you thought of them."

My eyebrows rise as I try to pull myself back into the present and out of my training session with Master Jhou. His logic is very clear to me, but that doesn't mean I know what to do with it. And the Fire Lord has not given me time to think it over.

We are sitting in one of the palace's smaller audience halls; on a whim the Fire Lord asked me to review the entertainment for the Midsummer Festival with him. I am seated on a low stool by the elaborate throne the Fire Lord occupies, watching a parade of possible acts perform one after another.

The current option is a trio of dancing girls, their long skirts with high slits clearly marking them as southern Fire Nation. They are rather distasteful to me; their style is typical, sensual and vulgar, the sort of entertainment that passes only after midnight and once barrels of wine have been depleted.

No. I look at the smiling faces, the seductive eyes all trained on their Lord and Master, who in turn gazes patiently at me, waiting on my decision. It gives me power, and I relish it; I'm suddenly aware of how acutely my training has affected my thinking.

In a moment I see it all, the whole sham of his world: he walks the tightrope of being Fire Lord. He has to title himself, hear "Your Majesty" or "Master", because these are the terms that allow him the illusion of control. His position is wickedly precarious; right under his nose are people like Master Jhou, planning, defying his orders and laws. And what, I consider, is the worth of a leader who cannot keep hold of his subordinates?

For two years he's hidden under the mask and robes of a Fire Lord, and I, in my tortured, frazzled mindset let him keep it. As long as he had the power between us, I was trapped. But my silence changed that, triggered an imbalance that gave me control over him, over his wants and interests. And his response, unexpected as it came, was only to hand me more.

So now, I realize, isn't the power really mine?

Locking eyes with Zuko – because that _is_ who he is – I shake my head confidently, no.

I watch him dismiss the girls, without hearing a word he says. There's a bizarre weightless feeling settling over my body, and I have the strangest moment of nostalgia. I remember the first time I met Aang, when Sokka and I freed him from the iceberg. I don't focus on either my brother or my friend, though; for once the memory is just about me.

It's about realization, hope, and even naivety. I think about my character, the girl I knew I was back then. And even though the innocence has passed through, there is still hope. It is the sensation running up my spine and filling my mouth with words that must be spoken.

Like a revelation for my spirit, I luxuriate in that feeling. Strength, power, will, drive, all these emotions unlock at once, and I know what I will do. Not what I must or should do – what I _will_ do.

* * *

I survey my companions coolly, trying to discern their faces in the shadows of the dim room. My old ally, the Lord, is seated on my right, his arms folded impatiently across his chest. The boy is further along the table, his stoic expression blending in with the wall behind him.

It makes me smile grimly; three Earth Kingdom men without a hint of variation between them. There is agitation, wariness worn into each of our faces, though it is less prominent on the unwrinkled brow of the boy.

The Lord returns my look with a raised eyebrow, obviously unimpressed by the delay. It is a dangerous position we are in, meeting to discuss our plans during such a volatile time period. Every day new Fire Nation citizens are flooding into the city, awash with patriotic spirit.

I answer, inclining my head as a response. He is waiting for me to speak; he does not know that I am waiting on another arrival. The boy knows, which accounts for the untroubled face he wears; his giveaway, however, is his incessant glancing at the entrance.

In a moment the door opens subtly, and the fourth and final addition to our party slips through the tiny sliver of space. The girl casts her eyes down, apologetically shrugging her shoulders; she can sense my displeasure, and quickly seats herself next to the boy.

"Late, Mistress Ayza." I raise my eyebrows, looking for a reason but not an excuse. "A mistake you will not repeat."

"Sorry," she answers. "I was tending to a visiting noble; he reacted poorly to the incense perfume in his chambers. Apparently," she adds disdainfully, "it 'disagreed with his constitution'."

The Lord gives a low chuckle, fixing the robes that clearly mark him as noble. "Nobility," he says with a sigh, "is a wearying occupation."

"Milord would know," Mistress Ayza replies sweetly, but her undertones are pointed. "And how is Milord finding his suite?"

The Lord barks a laugh. For a man so strict with the discipline of his sons, he greatly values spirit in girls. "A little incense can hardly daunt my senses, never you worry, child."

Mistress Ayza bristles at the word, but the silent boy next to her puts a hand on her arm, and she stills immediately.

I interrupt before she can reply. "Whatever the reason for your late arrival, it will not occur again. And you will hold your peace when speaking to this man," I add, gesturing to the Lord. "He is a powerful ally to our cause; his good favor may be the difference between life and a slow, painful death."

The girl glances at him curiously, while the boy murmurs something inaudible in her ear. He isn't much for talking, as it should be.

"Please," Mistress Ayza asks, once the boy is finished whispering, "introduce us."

The Lord rises. "I am Lord Jo Kai Mei," he says steadily, looking down at the seated girl and boy. "Master Strategist and Military Advisor to His Majesty, King Lho, 53rd Ruler of the Mighty Earth Kingdom." He smiles coolly. "And you, my dear? Who are you?"

Mistress Ayza stands and places her hands on the table, leaning her weight against it. "My name is Ayza; I am the personal healer of Fire Lord Zuko," she says crisply.

The Lord's face hardens, and he turns on me. "You trust her not to play the informant?"

"Absolutely." I narrow my eyes at the girl before nodding in the Lord's direction. "Mistress Ayza's sympathies do not lie with her employer."

The Lord surveys her, unconvinced. "What makes you certain of that? More than her word, I should hope."

She smiles, with all the signs of inward seething. "I would feign remind Milord that he is hardly familiar with the facets of my life."

I have neither the time nor the patience for this. "Enough, girl," I command, rising myself. "Sit down."

She curls her lip for an instant, but does not argue, obeying my order, placing a hand on the boy's arm as she reseats herself.

The Lord crosses his arms, a frown etching its way across his forehead.

"I suggest you take a seat, Milord," I say, my tone more reserved. "There is much to discuss, and little time. You simply must trust that Mistress Ayza is an ally, until she has the chance to prove it herself. Which," I throw pointedly at her, "would not be a misplaced idea."

Mistress Ayza shoots me a contemptuous look; Lord Jo Kai Mei retreats into the shadows of his chair.

I clear my throat. "Now, to begin. You each know why you are present this evening. It has been two years since the Great War and the Avatar's defeat. Many lives were taken and lost, and yet, as you know, the rebel cause is not gone; it never finished." I pause. "It never died, because it's leader lives."

His Lordship bolts forward in his chair. "The Avatar?" he demands forcefully.

Mistress Ayza's eyes are wide with shock and she turns disbelievingly to the boy beside her, who is calm as ever. "Did you know?" she asked, her voice hushed.

He nods.

"This," I explain calmly to the Lord, whose glare is becoming progressively more pronounced with each passing moment, "is Orii. He guards the Avatar's holding cell."

"You knew?" The girl is appalled, in disbelief. "And you never told me?"

"I couldn't." The boy speaks for the first time, his tone measured, tranquil. "I was forbidden."

"By who?"

Orii points at me.

Lord Jo Kai Mei has hardly heard the youthful squabble; his eyes are glinting as he glances at me. "This is serious, Master Jhou."

"I am aware." I fold my arms into my robes. "So if you would please relax, Mistress Ayza, we have much to discuss." The dim torches in the room are burning low, indicating the fleeting amount of time left to me. I press on. "Sit silently," I say, "and by the evening's end, I guarantee all will be elucidated."

* * *

WD94: Okay, I hope that makes the eye-bending situation more comprehensible. I did like what a couple of you guys were saying about the strong emotions; it fits, even if it's not precisely what I had in mind. Love it!

And did I not tell you to watch my OCs? They are busy people!

Viva la Revolucion!


	25. Chapter 25

WiltingDaisies94: May is finally here! It's so bright and warm, and I'm thrilled to see spring after all this time. I hope wherever you are, in your various countries or states, that the flora are blooming and the sun is out. Happy spring!

And after that Hallmark card introduction, time for story-related stuff. Now you all know about the conspiracy going on right under Zuzu's nose. Jhou, Ayza, Jo Kai Mei and Orii (bet most of you had forgotten about him, huh?) are all in on it, and they have roles to play in the execution of Jhou's brilliant plan (but we'll get there).

Since we've reached a chapter multiple of five, it's time to another dedication. This chapter goes to **JemiLover101**; thank you for all your reading. I love how much you care about Zutara, and I'm sorry I don't always give them to you. But you stick with me anyway, and I appreciate that!

* * *

Chapter 25

_I focus on the target, visualizing it crawling closer to me. If I can just hit it, I know, somehow, that everything will fall into place. That's just it, a matter of calming my own mind and centering myself._

_ It's very late. The courtyard around me blazes with torchlight; I can't see the firebenders working them, but a fresh set should just have moved into place. It's long since midnight and the whole palace is likely asleep in their beds._

_ I'm wide awake. All this planning for the Dance of Streets has ripped apart my mental capabilities; I can't sleep without draining my body as fully as my mind. So it's dark and it's late, and there are insects buzzing nastily in the trees around me, but I'm going to shoot up that target no matter what. _

_ Keep steady. I raise my hand and push my second and third fingers together. I plant my feet, feeling the hard ground beneath me, and line myself up with the target. I think I'll begin with some of the smaller projectiles I've been working on. I'm fond of them; they are tiny streams of fire, thin as needles, but one hit to the throat and you're down. _

_ I channel my energy into my hand, feeling the familiar stir in my stomach as the power floods through me. It's an addictive skill, firebending. The control is intoxicating, the sense of superiority – it's no surprise the Fire Nation has always been the toughest contender in political authority. We are a people of supreme conviction._

_ Tiny jolts of fire shoot from my fingertips, marking the target's face with perfect, even strokes. But it's too easy from this small distance, and I move back ten paces. Much better. _

_ Conviction, I consider, is more important than ambition. The two can work in harmony to produce great results, but individually they are destructive. With only conviction, there is no ability to focus, no specific drive to be found. With only ambition, victory is a hollow, shortly won thing._

_ I aim again, and this time my shot goes a bit wide. I move my hand farther to the left and jab at the air; the projectile goes hissing through the air and scorches the side of the target beautifully._

_ I would never choose to have a different bending ability. How the Avatar ever became an airbender baffles me; why choose such an inconstant, flighty element to hold so much power? Air is everywhere at once, existent but not visible, an element with no sense of direction… no sense of conviction._

_ "Well that's a little harsh, don't you think, Zuzu?"_

_ I pivot as the phantom voice reaches my ears, poised to strike. I look around sharply, attuned to the least sound, but only the same noises of fire and night float towards me._

_ Turning slowly, scanning the perimeter of the practice ground, I hold up my hands again. I must be imagining things; with my lack of sleep it wouldn't be a completely irrational explanation. I shake my head and stretch my arms behind my back, shaking loose. Focus, it's all about focus. _

_ The target's mysteriously gotten farther away. I squint in the dim light, knowing I haven't moved any farther away. I shoot another projectile, but the practice ground elongates as it moves through the air. For a brief moment I'm under the impression that my fire will never reach the target. _

_ "I wouldn't worry too much. You've not had trouble reaching goals in the past; what should make this round any different?"_

_ It's that same taunting voice and I growl I frustration. Squeezing my eyes shut furiously, I wait, my hands pressed into fists, every muscle ready to spring. I breathe, counting the seconds as the air goes in and out of my lungs._

_ When I open my eyes, the practice field has returned to its usual size and shape. The target hasn't budged, and the same margins mark the perimeter. The torches lighting the open space are still glinting in their familiar manner._

_ But something isn't right. The creepy feeling surrounding me should be hint enough, and I'm not entirely sure why I'm still standing here. Perhaps I know how ridiculous I'll feel being scared away from my practice session by some irritating hallucination. I am the Fire Lord, and for all the world I will not run from an enemy._

_ "Well that's a new philosophy, Zuzu. Last I remember you were very good at running away. Almost fond of it."_

_ This time it's right in my ear, and I spin around, a stream of fire issuing from my right hand. "Who are you?" I yell. "Show yourself!"_

_ A giggle that absolutely makes my skin crawl ripples across the field, echoing between the torches._

_ "Coward," I mutter under my breath. Summoning the power in my core, I form a massive fireball in between my hands, easily four times the size of my head. Opening my arms wide, I push upwards, shooting the ball high into the sky over the practice field. The fireball speeds into the air, glowing fiercely. _

_ As it arcs into the air, I shape a smaller stream of fire, this one with a pointed edge. Grunting in effort, I heave the fire into the sky as if I were throwing a spear. It hurries after the first fireball, and hits it dead center._

_ The larger fireball explodes into hundreds of smaller ones, showering down over the practice field, lighting up the entire area. I can see everything as the fire descends, arcing in a dome shape before it disappears. _

_ But still, I see no one._

_ "It's all in your head," the voice whispers, everywhere at once. "And it's outside too. Up and down, side to side, it's all around you, Zuko. Like the air."_

_ The last word echoes, reverberating in my mind. It's such simple language, but it resonates with freakish power. "Avatar," I hiss, realizing at once who I'm dealing with. "You cannot frighten me," I call out, my tone threatening. "Locked away, deep under the ground – why would I fear your pitiful threats?"_

_ More giggling. "I haven't threatened you," he replies, and I rotate to where the voice emanates from. "And I said nothing about fear. I think you're jumping to conclusions a bit, don't you?"_

_ "Leave, Avatar." I hate not being able to see him; it places me in the secondary position, which I'm sure he knows. "And take your ghostly presence with you."_

_ "You know," the Avatar's voice continues, a much more gleeful ring to it, "for someone who monologues so insistently about conviction, you're very bad at recognizing it in others."_

_ I sneer. "Oh?" I toss back contemptuously. "What conviction does a boy trapped eternally in a crystal prison have to share?"_

_The Avatar makes a noise that sounds rather like he's clicking his tongue. "Hostile, Zuko, very hostile. That's not much a way to treat the person in control, is it?"_

_ "You have no power anymore, Avatar," I growl. "You are trapped, and before long I will see you dead."_

_ There is a pause and I wait. There is no reply, and all at once, the torches flare out, extinguished. _

_ That's impossible. Unless a dozen of the most talented benders in the palace have all instantaneously fallen dead at their posts, there is no reason for the darkness. I glare through the blackness, calling for my fire._

_But I blink, and before it comes, I find myself inexplicably standing in the throne room inside the palace. There are footsteps in the hallway, and instinctively I conceal myself behind a curtain. Voices are entering the room; one is furious, the other calm. I peer around the end of the curtain, and what I see makes my eyes widen. _

_ I see myself, brimming with anger, storm across the room. The torches blaze upwards, the flames growing as the other me stalks past. I can't tell where I am in time; what has that infuriating little Avatar done to me?_

_"Traitor!" Other Zuko is roaring at the figure I can't see. "How do you dare betray me like this? You have been my accomplice in every stage of this endeavor, and now at the threshold of victory you place yourself in my way? How do you dare?" He spits on the ground in disgust. "But then in this family, I suppose I should be used to the backstabbing of kin."_

_ I pull back behind the curtain in shock, realizing that this isn't some sort of trick – it's a memory. I recognize this conversation, and I know exactly who Other Zuko is talking to._

_"Calm yourself, Zuko." The familiar voice carries through the room. "Anger only clouds judgment, and I know there is a heavy storm over your decision-making. You must be rational, nephew."_

_ Iroh._

___I remember this moment, the day I discovered my favorite uncle's betrayal. A knot tightens in my stomach; it smarts cruelly enough to think about it when the event resurfaces in my mind, and now that wretched Avatar is forcing me to relive it. I curse him with all my might and try to block out the sounds of fighting. It's an argument I know by heart._

_"Don't patronize me, old man," Memory Zuko snarls. "If you were anyone but my uncle I would have had you imprisoned and tortured on charges of treason before you had even a minute to protest."_

_ Iroh's shaking his head now. "Zuko, there was no treason. This is not who you are; I worked to bring you to the throne in only the best of ways. You know this behavior is wrong."_

_ Memory Zuko gives a terrible laugh. "You worked to bring me to the throne? Ha!" He should be crossing his arms about now. "That's shit and we both know it."_

_Iroh's voice softens. "Admittedly your succession was unconventional –"_

_ "Unconventional?" Memory Zuko mocks, voice bordering on hysterical. I wince at the sound. "You mean because I murdered my sister in cold blood? Because the best thing that ever happened to me was my father's untimely death?"_

_"Many sacrifices have been made," Iroh replies, ever calm in the face of my emotional overloading. "And we should take care to look back at each with regret. If anything could have been done to change Azula, I would have been honor bound to try. But –"_

_ "But what? But some people simply cannot be saved, so we must remove them?" A fist collides with the wooden armrest of the throne; pieces will crack off and one will lodge in the side of my hand; it won't be removed for months._

_"Do not think for a moment that I do not live with the guilt of your sister's death every day. And I would be ashamed to think you did not feel the same," Iroh replies in the crisp tone I'd always interpreted as condescending. "It is always a sorrow when family dies."_

_ "Not dies," Memory Zuko corrects scathingly, "is killed. 'Dies' sounds so passive and simple. It took time and energy to kill that bitch."_

_"Zuko," Iroh says sharply; he never approved of my cursing. "She was your sister."_

_"She was a radical cretin who stood in my way," Memory Zuko objects cruelly. "She would have murdered me without so much as batting an eye."_

_ "And the reason you feel you must return that barbaric behavior?" Iroh provokes. "Speak the truth with yourself Zuko, the decisions you are making are not honorable." Here Iroh will look at me with frightful disappointment. "I taught you better than this, nephew." _

_ Memory Zuko chuckles coldly. "You taught me that loyalty is the most important virtue one can attain. I suppose that's what makes this so very absurd; my faithful uncle, proving false his own wisdom."_

_"We are not slaveholders!" Iroh shouts. Memory Zuko will be surprised by this; my uncle was an eminently patient man. "We do not strip people of their basic dignity! If you wanted to keep her captive, lock her away in the lowest dungeons as a prisoner of war, I could have forgiven that. But this is unacceptable, Zuko."_

_ "Hold your peace," Memory Zuko demands. "You were discovered attempting to free that waterbending bitch, that little peasant freak. You brought her around the southern side of the palace and tried to let her go."_

_ "We do not hold people as slaves," Iroh repeats stolidly. "No matter what the offense, we do not degrade human dignity like that."_

___ "You planned to set loose the only surviving rebel of the Great War," Memory Zuko bites out. "Do you know what might have happened if she'd been let free? Once word came out, every dissenter and rebel of the four kingdoms would have come crawling out of the woodwork, and they would have rallied around her!" _  


_"My only excuse is that I am truly fond of you, Zuko," Iroh answers simply. "You are my nephew, and I have tried to make you understand with words. It is long past time since you have learned this lesson."_

_ Memory Zuko sneers. "I marvel how you dare to disapprove. I've set in action your plans for the Air Temples, heeded your diplomatic advice time and time again –"_

_ "For your own gain," Iroh argues, "and only when I insist upon it. Do you think I do not see your political agendas, Zuko? Your isolation of the Southern Water Tribes will be devastating, and even the neutral territory you've begrudgingly created in the Air Temples exists to make that possible power center obsolete." _

_"So now you would work against me? Sacrifices must be made; you know that better than most. But the slightest bit of difficulty and you seek to destroy me?" Memory Zuko snarls angrily; his interest in talking will soon end._

_ Iroh sighs. "Where has the goodness in you gone, nephew? You leave innocent people to be killed; I have supported you on your path to the throne because of the kindness your sister lacked. Why have you ripped that crucial value out of your being?" The last nail in the coffin is his next sentence: "You are just the same as your father."_

_ The room fills with the sort of silence that can only be considered oppressive. There is no person in the world Memory Zuko hates as much at this time as the old Fire Lord. _

_ "You've betrayed me, uncle," his voice hisses. "and like a common criminal, I will see you punished. For the high treason of attempting to bring about the destruction of my nation and my reign, you will die." A clap resonates through the hall, and I hear a shout. "Guards!"_

_ "Family," the Avatar's voice whispers wickedly in my ear as the doors to the throne room bang open, "always makes such a touching story."_

* * *

WD94: And another dream sequence... now you know another of Zuko's little secrets...

Daveshan, I hope this helps answer your question about why anyone would want to rebel against Zuko. Yes, his politics are good, but that doesn't stop him from being a 'benevolent dictator' type.


	26. Chapter 26

WiltingDaisies94: And now it's June. How does time move so fast? I can't believe it's been a month since I last updated, but my time has been completely taken up by life and my other story. I don't know if any of you have phases with shows, books, etc., but I do, and Merlin has sort of stolen my fanfiction life. And on a more practical level, the chapters for my other story are shorter, so they take less time to write.

But I save the really good stuff for you all. So now that you know what went down with Iroh, time to find out about someone else and see how all this plotting got put into motion... you know you're curious!

_Italics is flashback. _Enjoy, and as always drop me a line!

* * *

Chapter 26

"We're on the way in," Ro whispers to me, placing a hand on my shoulder.

"I know," I reply softly. Clearly we're getting close to the main complex of the Fire Lord's palace. I can tell because of all the noise; odd strains of music, shouts of drunken laughter, the pitiful sounds of animals dragged into the celebration, and the footsteps of thousands fill the air.

"Yune," I hiss, "you're on point. Signal as soon as we're past the crowds."

"Got it," Yune answers, much more reasonable now that I'm not interrupting his precious sleep. "High or low?"

I roll my eyes. "Low. If the guards hear us it's going to attract a shitload of attention, and that is _not_ something we need."

"Fine, fine," Yune agrees. "Breathe for a minute, would you? We've been over this a thousand times – we know what we're doing, don't we guys?"

There are murmurs of assent from the others, and Ro's hand tightens on my shoulder. "Leave off," I hear him instruct in that effortlessly calm tone of his. "We all need to be at our best, and we have perhaps an hour left before we reach our destination. I suggest you all keep quiet and prepare."

More mumbling, but eventually the shuffling stops and quiet reigns over the wagon; I breathe more steadily.

"Thanks," I whisper to Ro. "I'm good."

He lets go and I press my back against the wall. The road has gotten much smoother and the wagon is no longer bumping from side to side; finally I can hear myself think.

Sometimes I forget how exhausted I really am. All the planning that has gone into this… how to get in… how to find Katara… how to overthrow Zuko… how to get back out… it's only been two years in real time, but I feel infinitely older. Some days I doubt I'll ever sleep this nightmare off.

Ha.

Sleep.

I close my eyes, trying to steady myself. Instead, my mind flies back to where everything started...

_"It's been some time, young one."_

_ "Not so young anymore, Majesty," I snap through gritted teeth._

_ Bumi laughs, but there's a certain grimness in his voice that I've never noticed before. "I see that," he replies easily. "It would seem you have aged long before your time."_

_ "If you think I came to exchange useless chatter, then you may be as mad as people say." My feet are dancing with impatience, and I'm more or less restraining myself from punching the cave wall. _

_ Bumi claps his hands. "I know why you are here, young one. Come, follow me." He moves towards the back of the cave, the earth rumbling beneath his feet. "There is much to discuss."_

_ My face twitches irritably, but I move after him nonetheless. "Discuss?" I object, shaking my head. "I can't imagine what you have to say for yourself, Majesty."_

_ "Oh?" Bumi's voice is bemused, but amused as well, and he stops moving. "Your mind is troubled?"_

_ "Troubled?" I shout, my temper getting the best of me. "Are you crazy? How long have you been holed up in this cave? Do you have any idea what's happened to the world around you?"_

_ "Of course," he replies, waving his hand as if my explosion is as an insignificant as a fly buzzing too close to his face. "The world is at war."_

_ I advance. "That's right, war. Our war. THE war."_

_ "So I've heard," Bumi says calmly._

_ "Heard? You've heard nothing!" I shake my head viciously, hands clenching into fists. "You haven't heard the screams of innocent men and women, the shrieks flying up into the air. You heard nothing of the explosions of power, the sound of hundreds of thousands of enemies rising up against the few, the good." I spit at the ground. "You haven't had so much as an inclination to step foot out of this cave and stop your kingdom from collapsing."_

_ My words ring, echoing across the high ceiling, disturbing the silence of the huge, empty space; the screech of a sleeping bat responds in ruffled annoyance, and the skeletal wings bring it into flight. _

_ Bumi says nothing as the creature slips away._

_ I don't care. Everything is mangled in my head – our loss at the most important moment, Aang's sudden disappearance, my miraculous escape from the Fire Nation – and I'm overpowered by the idea of having something straight. I know I'm angry with Bumi, that I have the right to be._

_"Was this where you ran off to?" I lash out. "Well I can't say I understand the appeal. Compared to your palace I'd call this a serious step down."_

_ Bumi chuckles infuriatingly. "I would think you of all the young ones might recognize the call of a simple place like this."_

_ "You think yourself clever," I hiss, crossing my arms. "But I can tell you what you really are, Majesty."_

_ He steps forward. "I'm listening."_

_ "A coward," I bite out. "A lowly coward covered in the robes of a king."_

_ "Ah."_

_ "What did you think would happen if you backed out of this war?" I snarl. "That some magical force would swoop in and rescue us? We needed you – we sent messenger after messenger begging for your help, only to find out that you had fled the Earth Kingdom, disappeared completely, left your people helpless in the face of the Fire Nation!"_

_Bumi clicks his tongue patiently. "Flee? What would bring you to that conclusion? Do I seem the sort to turn tail and run from an enemy?"_

_ "I wouldn't have thought so," I answer bitterly, "but I consider myself thoroughly enlightened on that point." _

_ Bumi sighs, and some of the ease disappears from his tone. "You are younger than you yet believe yourself to be. Otherwise you might realize that I had little choice but to leave my kingdom."_

_ I narrow my eyes. "And why is that?" I demand._

_ "Tactical retreat," Bumi answers simply._

_ "What?"_

_ "Consider," he continues patiently. "I represented the most significant threat to the Fire Lord. You will forgive me for saying it, but I rather suspected that so small a group of fighters, no matter how capable or powerful, would not be able to protect everyone."_

_ I frown. "What are you talking about?"_

_ "They do call it the Great War for a reason," Bumi says. "There was much more at stake than the life of the Fire Lord or the Avatar. Fire Lord Ozai had armies, and," he laughs, "they were all pointed in my direction."_

_ "So you decided that surrender was your best option?" I slam my fist into my hand. "Instead of standing proud as the king of a warrior people, you chose to give up?"_

_ Bumi shakes his head in amusement. "Youth is obsessed with pride. You make me feel old all over again." He clears his throat, gaining hold of himself. "No. I moved myself into a temporary position of surrender. I ordered the best of my warriors to move into hiding and the rest to stand down."_

_ "Why would you do a stupid thing like that?" I growl. "We would have come to help you –"_

_ "And arrived too late, with too little aid, too exhausted to save anyone else, and with the entire remaining force of the Fire Nation on your tails," Bumi finishes for me. "And if you ask why, then you should wait for the answer. That's manners, you know."_

_It's difficult, but I hold my tongue and wait for Bumi to speak. _

_ "The takeover of the Earth Kingdom was a brutal affair. Long before I decided to retreat I had reports of the damage done to other provinces." Bumi's voice is heavy. "It was no less than slaughter. Innocent citizens, non-bending civilians, were being killed by the dozens, entire towns and forests being burnt to the ground… tell me, how could I allow that to happen to my people?"_

_ He begins to pace and his tone lightens as he moves about. "So I began to plan. I knew the greedy habits of the Fire Lord, and Omashu was always a prosperous city. If I left, the Fire Lord would have a clear path to the throne – there would be no need to destroy the city or its inhabitants."_

_I shake my head, the logic not connecting in my mind. "You mean you did all this to protect Omashu?"_

_ Bumi laughs. "Precisely. Helps that it worked, too. Omashu was the least damaged city in the entire Earth Kingdom by the time the new Fire Lord had finished his conquest."_

_ An internal struggle is building up in my chest and I fight against the confusion. "So you left us out in the cold to keep Omashu safe?" I'm beginning to see the reasoning, but my brain is fighting against it; i__t's inconceivable that Bumi made an excusable decision in such a dangerous situation and we still lost. _ "Do you know what your help might have meant to our side during the war?"

_ "One more city wiped away," Bumi replies._

_"No!" I counter. "You would have been the difference between victory and defeat. The Avatar is dead, you crazy old man! Aang, your friend, your ally, he's gone, Your Majesty! And he has Katara… that bastard…" I cover my face. "Zuko has her locked away and who the hell knows what he's done to her by now?"_

_ Bumi's hand descends on my shoulder, holding me fast in place though I'm tempted to pull away. "I know," he answers quietly._

_ I move my hands away from my face, trying to hold back the emotions roiling in my stomach. "What?" I don't believe him. "How could you possibly know what's happened? You've been living in this cave for months!"_

_Bumi chuckles. "That is the beauty of having allies, young one."_

___I toss my head, pushing Bumi's hand off me. "You gave up your allies when you came out here. Besides, unless you're on very close terms with the new Fire Lord, I doubt you have any idea what he's done with Katara." I turn my back on him. _  


_He moves around in front of me. "Well, perhaps I cannot claim such intimacy with the boy himself, but I do have something almost as good."_

_I snort. "And what would that be?"_

_He takes my hand. "A double agent on the inside."_

_My eyes widen. "What? Who?"_

_"An old friend of mine." Bumi seems very pleased with himself. "I don't suppose I would have mentioned Jhou the last time we met."_

_"Jhou?" I frown. "Who the hell is that?"_

_"Ah, that's a bit of a story." Bumi pulls on my hand and moves across the cave floor. "Have a seat." He pushes me down into a chair before I can protest._

_I grunt as my butt makes contact with the hard seat. "Ouch," I mutter._

_Bumi giggles. "So sorry."_

_"Shut up," I growl. "Now who the hell is this Jhou person, and how does he know what's happening in the Fire Nation?"_

_Bumi sits down across from me. "Jhou is a master earthbender – you'd like him, I imagine." He throws his legs over the arm of the chair. "Through an odd series of events, Jhou ended up in the Fire Nation, where he was raised, and later recruited as a spy by Fire Lord Azulon – Zuko's grandfather."_

_I'm interested despite my anger, and desperate for information on Katara. "So how'd you two become friends?" I ask._

_"Well, that's the curious bit," Bumi answers. "You see, Azulon sent Jhou to spy on me. Omashu has always been more powerful than the Fire Nation has liked, and as you know," he says with a grin in his voice, "I've been around for a while, running things to the Earth Kingdom's advantage. That's never sat too well with the Fire Lords."_

_"So?"_

_"So, Azulon sent Jhou to my city, my court, to spy on me." Bumi snorts. "I suppose he thought since Jhou was of Earth descent we'd get along fine."_

_"And let me guess," I fill in, "Azulon was more right about that than he ever wanted to be."_

_"Correct!" Bumi approves. "It only took a few months for me to crack Jhou's mask. He was younger back then, not as skilled in deception, and I always thought he seemed ill at ease. A few spies of my own brought me the proof I needed, and I had him taken and brought to me."_

_I don't understand. "Then why do you call him a friend?"_

_Bumi laughs. "Because that is what he became. We Earth Kingdom people have great loyalty, do we not? I spoke with Jhou; it took a few days, but I managed to turn him back to his roots. Once I'd given him my word that I would let him live, I talked him into spying for me." _

_I blinked. "You?"_

_Bumi cackles delightedly. "Of course! Do you think I've never played a round of politics, young one?" He coughs a bit. "No. Jhou has been my inside contact for decades – he's served three Fire Lords by now, and as of yet he's utterly loyal to me. After all," he says, "I did spare his life."_

_It all catches up with me at once. "But then you know what's happening in the Fire Nation! And, and more than that, in the palace!"_

_ "Certainly."_

_ I stand up so fast that I knock my chair out from under me. "Well don't just sit there and laugh! Is Katara okay? How can I get to her? What about Mai and Ty Lee and Zuko's allies? And –"_

_ "Calm yourself," Bumi interrupts. "All in good time, my friend, all in good time. I already have a plan for Katara and for you." He puts his feet on the ground. "You don't think I spent all my time in this cave doing nothing?"_

_ I cross my arms. "What's the plan, then?"_

_ "Slowly, slowly," Bumi chides. "First there is some information you might like to know."_

_ "What?" I snap impatiently. _

_ Bumi chuckles and I have the distinct impression he's suppressing a little dance. "The Avatar," he tells me happily, "is still alive."_

A low whistle reaches my ears and my eyes shoot open. The restless shuffling around me says that the others are ready to go, and I crouch, finding my footing.

"For the boomerang," Ro whispers behind me as the wagon finally comes to a halt.

"For the boomerang," I reply, one hand reaching up to pull my face covering down over my eyes. The guard's footsteps are coming around the back of the wagon to open the doors.

"It's time," Yune murmurs.

I nod fiercely. "Let's go."

* * *

WD94: I love Bumi. He's a fantastic character, and I love his bi-polar, crazy and serious, split personality. I toned down the craziness a bit, but left in the laughter. After all, what's Bumi without his giggles?

I've shifted a couple of things around so that Omashu was always a free city, only recently taken by the Fire Nation. Also, as you can tell, the Gaang didn't get any help from Bumi during the final showdown.

And in other news, this happens to be the longest chapter I've written thus far. I surprise even myself from time to time.


	27. Chapter 27

WiltingDaisies94: Thank you all for your fantastic comments on my last chapter - it's always good to know that people are still interested, even though I'm lazy with updates. I'm glad you're enjoying my plot twists!

I also had a request for some clarification on last chapter, so I'll try to be succinct with that: Bumi, King of Omashu, awesome ninja bender, old friend of Aang's, went into hiding under threat from the Fire Nation, to save the people of Omashu. He and Master Jhou are allies; Jhou is a double agent for the Earth Kingdom, originally a spy for the Fire Lord, convinced to work instead for Bumi. **  
**

I think that covers the major plot points from last chapter... so go read, and be happy.

* * *

Chapter 27

I glance in the tall mirror, admiring my striking figure. The long ruby robe cuts in neatly at my waist, emphasizing the broad expanse of my chest. The dark bottom layer is more for show than anything else, as is the dagger tied into the waist. My golden mask is lying on a nearby table; it will cover my entire face when I put it on.

The Dance of Streets has begun, and as is custom I will wait to make my entrance. It's one of the rare events the royal family doesn't begin, and the only one we're allowed to arrive late to.

"It's done."

Ty Lee is leaning against the doorframe, a smile on her face and her eyebrows arched gracefully. She's stepped out of her usual tendency towards pink for the evening, and is instead clothed in dark colors. The top of her dress is laced up like a corset, without sleeves, and the skirt is multiple layers of dark red material.

"Finally." Usually I'd feel the urge to wipe that self-satisfied smirk off Ty Lee's pretty face, but tonight I'm in a good enough mood to make an exception. "Show me."

Ty Lee dips a hand into the bag she's brought with her. "As Your Majesty wishes, of course." She's practically gleeful.

The little vial she produces is no more than three inches long and filled with a snow white powder; the sight of it makes me grin. "Hand it to me," I demand, eyes trained on the sheer crystal.

Ty Lee closes the gap between us, her hips swinging in their usual smooth, seductive manner. The vial hangs by a string tied around its neck, and Ty Lee dangles it in front of my face teasingly.

Attractive, I admit, but not quite as attractive as what she's holding.

"Ty Lee," I say languidly, as if dealing with a tiresome child, "hand it to me."

She rolls her eyes, but places the vial in my waiting hand. "It's all finished, ready for use at Your Majesty's discretion." Ty Lee moves away from me and towards the wine display up against the wall.

I turn the vial in my hand, admiring it from every angle. "Ty Lee," I praise, enchanted as I watch the firelight glint on the crystal, "it's perfect."

"I know," she replies smugly, pouring thick red wine into a goblet. "And now that it's finished I would ask something of you."

I watch the vial revolve slowly on the end of the string. "Yes?"

Ty Lee takes a dainty sip of her wine. "I want to be there."

I drop the vial into the pocket fold of my robes, fingering it through the cloth. "You want to be where?"

"There," she repeats, walking back over, her goblet swinging carelessly in her hand. "When you kill the Avatar – I want to see it." She smiles easily. "That shouldn't be too difficult for you to arrange, should it?"

It is at times like this I understand why Ty Lee and Azula were such good friends. The happy malice sparkling in her eyes is telltale enough, and the way she asks to see the final destruction of the Avatar is scarily reminiscent of my sister. Ty Lee is perfectly collected, though; her own evil doesn't faze her in the least.

"I imagine not," I answer, a little uneasy at the way Ty Lee is smiling, but that feeling is overpowered by my joy at the project's completion. "But I'm wondering why you would be interested in watching?"

"Why?" Ty Lee shakes her head. "Does Your Majesty honestly expect me to believe he can't think of a single reason why I might want to see the death of the boy who killed one of my closest friends and helped permanently disfigure the other?"

There isn't much I can say in response to that. Ty Lee doesn't know what happened to Azula, and she's nearly the last person I'd tell. As for Mai… that is a topic I have no interest in discussing. "Your point is taken, Ty Lee." Hopefully she'll take my hint and give up on the subject.

But Ty Lee has an awful resilience in her, borne of stubbornness or maybe malice, and instead of heeding the warning in my voice, she presses on. "Tell me, would you really have made her the Fire Lady?"

I pass a hand over my temple. Why is she working to ruin my happiness? "Of course I would have," I reply as matter-of-factly as possible. I walk over to Ty Lee and take the wine goblet from her hand, draining the rest of the liquid in one gulp. "I did love her."

Ty Lee laughs and takes back the goblet. "Oh my sweet, naive Lord, no you didn't."

My hand reaches to grasp Ty Lee's chin. "What could you possibly mean by that?" I bait her, watching the coolness flicker through her eyes. "And before you answer, recall that your ability to see the Avatar dead is based entirely on my say so."

Ty Lee shoves my hand out of the way. "Well then I'll try to keep it short and sweet, shall I?" She backs away from me and replaces the goblet on the wine tray. "You were not in love with Mai, and she was not in love with you."

Little bitch. "And what gives you the wherewithal to make that claim?" I snap.

Ty Lee folds her arms and raises her eyebrow disdainfully. "You really need to ask that question?"

"Hm," I grunt noncommittally, turning away.

I hear her shifting behind me. "Frankly, it's for the better that Mai exiled herself to the Air Temples. Not, understand," she interrupts herself idly, "that the tragedy which caused her to leave should have happened, but the results turned out highly favorable." She's coming closer. "After all, you two would have made a miserable married couple."

"Shut up," I growl, forcing my hands not to curl into fists.

"No." Ty Lee is right up against my back, standing on tiptoe, talking calmly in my ear. "You see, I always thought it was a matter of habit. You and Mai knew each other as children, as teenagers, as adults… I figured it was all about familiarity. I mean, Mai was certainly difficult to engage with; there was no way she'd be looking far from her established social circle to find a husband."

"Ty Lee –"

"And then there were her parents, of course." Her voice is easy, even pleasant, her breath hot against my ear. "They'd been training her to accept you as a husband for years. Duty, honor, all that drivel they drove into Mai's head had to come to fruition at some point. So I don't suppose it's really just to blame Mai for pretending to be in love… making the best of a bad situation and all that."

A hot fury is bubbling inside me, and the urge to just kill Ty Lee once and for all is growing stronger with each passing moment. I fight to remind myself that if her perfect powder doesn't end up working, I'll need her around to concoct another.

"Not that either of you was very good at pretending, though – I always wondered how you stood each other." She shifts her footing and places her hands on my shoulders. "You two fought all the time, over everything, and not in that sweet 'opposites attract' way. In fact, I don't know if I've ever seen two more ill suited people trying to be in love."

She chuckles, shaking her head; my shoulders tense. "On the one hand there was Mai: quiet, indifferent but calm, hard to please, and even dark at times. And then there was you: the emotional firework, angry, passionate, powerful."

Ty Lee clicks her tongue in mock disappointment. "And you expected that combination to work out. Unbelievable. You might think that years of experience would have taught you that rather than completing each other, your traits clashed. You and Mai always exacerbated each other's bad qualities, and any positive effect you had on each other was always long in coming."

Ty Lee moves her hands down my back and steps away, speaking softly. "And for all that, she never made you happy, did she? I know Mai had her fair share of complaints about you… sometimes she wondered how she could ever love a fool like you."

I whip around instantly and grab Ty Lee by the throat, anger coursing through me. "I will personally cut out your tongue if you utter another word," I inform her coldly, tightening my fingers around her neck. "And if I pull anything else out with it… well, too bad."

Ty Lee chokes, her hands grabbing at mine, trying to free her throat from my grip. I squeeze tighter.

"Do you understand, Mistress?" I demand, watching her intently as her nails rip at the skin on the back of my hand.

Ty Lee's eyes flash with something that resembles fear and she nods, fighting to breathe.

I toss her away from me, and Ty Lee falls to the floor, clutching her throat and gasping for air. Her hands massage her abused throat and she looks up at me with a defiant dislike.

I turn my back on her. "I would recommend you leave, Ty Lee. The Dance of Streets has already begun, and I doubt you'd like to miss the festivities."

"Indeed," she rasps, getting to her knees. "It would be a shame, especially after all the hard work Your Majesty put into the Festival." She stands up and glances at me. "Though before I go, I might leave you with a recommendation."

I turn my head, and in a moment of prescience, I realize what Ty Lee's been thinking this whole time. She knows better than to talk about Mai in front of me, much less to disparage our relationship. Like an animal driver she's been prodding me, goading me, working me into this anger.

She smiles coolly. "All that rage you feel inside, Fire Lord… take it out on the Avatar."

* * *

WD94: Okay, I admit I kind of used this chapter for Zuko/Mai venting. They really have never made any sense to me as a couple, and their "chemistry" is just nonexistent. Zuko/Katara have the right sort of opposites attract thing going for them, their interactions are more interesting, Katara is more attractive and fun than Mai, and Katara makes Zuko a better person. Don't get me wrong, I love Mai as a character, but all Mai and Zuko ever seem to do is aggravate each other.


	28. Chapter 28

WiltingDaisies94: This is the last anticipatory wind-up chapter before the plan goes into motion. So, I thought a quick recap might be in order, to make sure you have all the important points in mind:

- Jhou works for Bumi as a double agent against the Fire Nation; they're friends and allies

- Mystery POV, Ro, and the rest of the crew are headed into the palace as prisoners

- Lord Jo Kai Mei and his sons, Ayza, and Orii are all in on Jhou's plan

- Aang is trapped in the dungeons of the palace, but not dead

- Ty Lee has put together a concoction to get Aang out of his crystal so Zuko can finish him off after the Dance of Streets

Got it? Great. Now go read!

* * *

Chapter 28

"Hold."

Sweat runs down my forehead and my breathing is low, steady. My eyes are trained on the two strands of water that are precariously supporting a rock the size of my head. It hovers over the ground, and I struggle to keep the water in place with just my eyes; my hands are tied behind my back as an extra precaution.

"Good. Keep breathing as I've taught you, otherwise you will lose control too quickly for this to be of any use." Master Jhou is talking behind me, circling in his usual vulture-like manner. "And hold your chin up higher; staring downwards is a simple giveaway for your work. Your eyes will bend to anyplace in your line of vision, which is expanded if you keep your head level."

I comply, and the cords of water thicken; I feel my grip on the rock becoming stronger. I raise it higher in the air, to roughly the height of my waist.

"Well done. Now call it over to yourself."

Concentrating, I slowly drag my eyes across the empty space between my body and the rock. With an uneasy jolt at first, the subject of my eye-bending soars lazily over on my water strands and comes to a halt at my side, floating beside me like a favored pet awaiting a reward.

Master Jhou mutters to himself and walks up behind me, his hands reaching down to untie my bonds. "Well waterbender, I must say you have given this a very good try. Eye-bending not an easy skill to master, and you should not take it badly that you have not managed to do so."

I feel the ropes slip off my wrists and a deep disappointment washing through me at Master Jhou's words. After all this time of intense training, I'm still not good enough for whatever it is he wants me to do. I shake my head and turn around, arguments welling up inside me.

But all of them are choked back down when I see Master Jhou's face. He's smiling – no, _grinning_ – like a fiend, which somehow makes his serious face seem that much more menacing.

"But fortunately," he says, arms crossed over his chest, "you've figured out enough of eye-bending for our purposes." Master Jhou reaches out a gnarled hand and places it on my shoulder. "You're ready."

I blink. _Our_ purposes? What is he talking about? And ready for what? Didn't he just say I had failed to master eye-bending?

"Come," he beckons and I follow him obediently. "There is much to explain and rather little time to do so. And as Time does not apologize for her inconsiderate behavior, we must attempt to compensate for her." He frowns, thinking aloud. "I believe you were best placed here for the moment."

I sit as Master Jhou bids me, beside the steadily flowing stream. The sound of the moving water is comforting always, and I reach out a hand. The warm droplets run through my fingers and up my wrist, meeting the last remnants of my scars.

"Look at me," Master Jhou commands, and his voice has lost some of its gravelly effect. The tone has been replaced by something more earnest and hopeful; I raise my eyes expectantly.

"I have been training you day in and day out, working you harder, pushing you further with every moment. And clever girl that you are, I know you've wondered why. And you are correct to have done so – my motivations have never been of a purely altruistic nature. So this evening you will finally know what all this preparation has been for." He locks his gaze with mine, his eyes piercing through the air between us.

"Tonight, you go free."

My mouth opens soundlessly, and if it weren't for the dead silence surrounding me I'd have been be certain I'd heard Master Jhou wrongly. Freedom… my head spins at the thought, and my eyes stare ahead blankly. What must be shock thrills through my core and I shake my head impulsively, back and forth, back and forth.

"Yes," Master Jhou affirms calmly. "Do you think I would have wasted my time training you so that you could remain a prisoner in the Fire Lord's rattrap of a palace? Or did you assume that I would merely turn you loose on the off-chance you might manage to escape alone?" Master Jhou grabs my chin to stop my shaking. "No. There was never any whim involved; everything that will occur within the next few hours has been meticulously planned."

I mouth the words after him, not understanding. Meticulously planned…?

"Yes," Master Jhou repeats. "Much has happened in the past two years, regardless of how the Great War ended. Plans have changed, men have regrouped… the rebellion is returned, with a determination unmatched." His eyes glint triumphantly. "Our cause is not lost, our resources are not finished, and our strongest powers will be reunited again tonight."

Strongest powers reunited? My head reels as I try to wrap my mind around Master Jhou's words. The rebellion is alive… and coming back tonight…

"Your allies have not forsaken you. Together we shall reveal this false Lord's treachery to the world, and watch his Nation descend into anarchy." The venom Master Jhou exudes is terrifying and grounding at once, and through my haze of confusion I discover the wherewithal to wonder once more who he is.

"Never again shall we allow our world to fall under the singular control of a villain, no matter how cleverly he hides behind his pretty smile and simple deceits." Master Jhou takes my hands in his own twisted fingers. "Trust my words and together we shall bring the world back to order, Master Waterbender."

Dumbfounded, heartened, intrigued, I nod my head slowly. It's too much to hope for, too good to be real, and for the moment I'd rather play along with the fantasy Master Jhou is offering than fight it. I take a deep breath and pray to anyone listening that the Master is telling me the truth.

Master Jhou nods at me. "You may not believe me yet, but you will soon enough. For now I simply need your attention… and a moment of patience. Stay here." With that, Master Jhou stands up on his ancient, sturdy limbs and disappears into one of the planthouses.

Unfortunately, as soon as Master Jhou is out of sight, my moment of easy belief passes. Our strongest powers reunited… how can that be possible? My logical half argues against the half desperately clutching at hope. Aang was destroyed, Toph was gone… Sokka… Sokka was killed…

I hold my tears in, some morbid voice in the back of my head wryly warning that I might begin eye-bending by accident. It's difficult to think about my brother, but it happens more than I care to admit; Sokka is a subconscious motivation.

Sokka.

Why do I bother to hope? Because of silly, ridiculous Sokka. Why do I continue trying, though I feel doomed to fail? Because of stupid, thickheaded Sokka. Why do I go on training, even though my enemies would outnumber me thousands to one? Because of strong, goodhearted, Sokka.

It's not the first reason that comes to mind, I know. Of course I want freedom from my prison and revenge on my captor – but those are dark reasons. It is the light reasons that matter more; Aang, Toph, my parents, my tribe, all those scarred by the Great War, and my brother, Sokka.

And from some far recess of my memory it occurs to me that Sokka has had that same effect on others. That miserable ambassador from the Earth Kingdom – whatever his name was – had brought Zuko half of Sokka's broken boomerang. The ambassador claimed it was the symbol of a group of captured rebels.

Sokka's symbol.

"You will be needing this for the evening." Master Jhou is back, with something wrapped delicately in a length of red fabric. He seats himself across from me and hands me the package. "Open it."

I take the bundle from Master Jhou and begin unfolding it; I have the oddest impression of watching myself from above as I undo the delicate ties.

"Tonight, as you are aware, is the Dance of Streets, which marks the end of the Midsummer Festival. The vast majority of the Fire Nation has arrived for the occasion, making this evening the perfect opportunity for a large announcement." Master Jhou smiles grimly; I'm in the dark on what he so desperately wants the Fire Nation to know.

"In addition, the crowds will provide excellent cover for those wishing to enter and exit the palace unnoticed." He chuckles knowingly. "And thankfully, this happens to be the Festival when everyone sees fit to don a mask and make fantastically foolish decisions." He pauses. "Fortunately for us, you will only be doing the former."

The fabric falls away, revealing a skillfully crafted golden mask. There is no unnecessary decoration; all the mask's beauty relies in its careful curves and delicate architecture. I pick it up, examining the back, the simple ties that would hold the mask in place.

I replace the beautiful façade, but there's something more left in the cloth. I lift another section of the red fabric, which falls away to reveal cloth the color of amethyst. The dress is long, fitted at the top with a flaring skirt. It has only one strap, and the sleeve attached is opaque and flowing. It's the most beautiful dress I've seen in years, and I notice some golden jewelry hidden beneath the red fabric.

"You will be attending the Dance of Streets, Master Waterbender," Master Jhou explains impassively. "The mask and dress are your disguise for the evening, courtesy of Mistress Ayza."

Ayza? The Fire Lord's healer? My eyebrows rise of their own accord – she's one of Master Jhou's allies? She is a dissenter? A rebel against the Fire Nation, her home, the land she grew up in?

"Oh yes," Master Jhou replies, implicitly understanding all of my unasked questions. "I was rather surprised you hadn't already figured her out, what with all the hints she so obviously dropped for you. But never mind that. You can thank her for her help and bombard her with questions later."

Judging from the direction this conversation is heading in, I gather that today is a day for swallowing shocking information instantaneously and without issue. I just nod dumbly, trying my hardest to shut down all my senses of disbelief and confusion.

"There will be many actions running simultaneously this evening," Master Jhou continues, his tone deadly serious. "But no matter what occurs around you, no matter what disruptions or distractions interfere, you are to remember your part. Your task tonight is to track down the Fire Lord."

A pit opens in my stomach, reacting to the fire that goes off in my ears.

"The Fire Lord has recently acquired something of great value to our cause. This item is just as important to him as it is to us; there is no chance the Fire Lord would risk losing it. Knowing his precarious position should said item be lost, we have conjectured that the Fire Lord will have it on his person all evening." Master Jhou watches me steadily.

I swallow unconsciously, but look back nonetheless.

"The item is a vial, about this large." Master Jhou estimates the size with his fingers. "It is filled with a white powder and hangs on a string tied around the vial's neck." Master Jhou folds his hands. "It will be your task to relieve the Fire Lord of it."

My unspoken "how" hangs in the air between us like lead.

"You will find the Fire Lord, but before you even begin your interactions with him, you will retrieve the vial. That," Master Jhou punctuates sharply, "is where your eye-bending will come in. Use of the hands is too obvious; remember, the Fire Lord will be hyperaware of his surroundings tonight. You must find where the vial is hidden on his person, use your new skill to bring it over to yourself, and do so without attracting attention."

Oh.

"Additionally, you will be on a time limit, Master Waterbender." The Master holds up a hand threateningly. "Let me make this very clear – you must have the vial in your possession within a half hour of entering the Festival grounds. A half an hour. No more or less. Do you understand?"

I nod mechanically.

"The moment that time has elapsed, you will be approached by a man dressed entirely in white, with a green cloth tied around his waist. He will ask you, _'Does My Lady dance the reverse?'_ to which you will reply, _'So long as I may be returned'_. After that exchange, and _only_ after, will you give him the vial."

White with a green sash; so long as I may be returned; half an hour.

"After you are certain the vial is in the right hands, you will approach the Fire Lord." Just as Master Jhou's tone cannot possibly become any more serious, it does. "Your task will be to lull him into a false sense of security, which, make no mistake, will be no easy feat."

My eyebrows furrow, creating my unasked _why_.

"You will distract the Fire Lord; we need him out of the way for an hour or so. And before you give me that discomfiting look," Master Jhou interrupts himself, "I will tell you how."

I hate how far ahead of me he is. The Master is demented (among other things), but he knows me.

"You are going to seduce the Fire Lord."

The pit in my stomach widens into a full length chasm, and a sharp jab in my ribs prompts me to shake my head. No. Absolutely not, under no circumstances, no. My expression must be something fearsome, because Master Jhou reaches out a hand and grasps my wrist. The muscles in my legs are tensed; I was ready to move away long before my brain ordered me to do so.

"Listen to me, Master Waterbender," Master Jhou insists. "I understand that servicing the carnal interests of the man who has kept you prisoner and slave is not appealing. But we do not need you to fulfill the act, only to insinuate its likelihood. All we need is the Fire Lord sufficiently distracted – there is nothing so tempting during the Dance of Streets as a pretty face.

"It will be in the atmosphere tonight – the Festival is a time of courtship and carousing. The Fire Lord will suspect nothing of a beautiful young noblewoman seeking his attention; he will assume you have not the least notion of his identity." The Master pauses. "Furthermore, if you want your revenge on the Fire Lord, you will do as I say."

My muscles relax, but the remaining wariness keeps my back straight, and my eyes must be driving holes through Master Jhou's skull.

"Once you have the Fire Lord's attention, you will convince him to bring you into the palace. Away from the crowds, from the guards or any other form of help, you will face your captor." Master Jhou's grip on my wrist loosens. "Trick him, attack him, knock him out first – whatever you wish, the Fire Lord is yours for that hour. I guarantee that no one will come to his rescue." The Master's voice is as cold and hard as steel.

No. I shake my head; I can't do this. I won't go near Zuko, not with his twisted mind games, his impossibly complex facades. I cannot try and... seduce him. I know he'll see right through me, somehow, someway. Smiling at him as he tenderly touches my skin… the thought gives me chills of revulsion and something else I can't name. But no, no, I can't. I won't.

"Not for your freedom?" Master Jhou's voice cuts through my doubts like a knife. "Not to earn your own liberty, not to fight for others to gain that same right? Come now, girl. Is this the awe-inspiring Master Waterbender that the Avatar's enemies trembled before during the Great War?"

I struggle against him, pulling back my hand. My fingers skim over the scars on my wrists; I can't. He doesn't understand… how could he? It hasn't been Master Jhou locked away and tortured, abused and thrown through a mental labyrinth of haunts and tricks. It's easy for him to tell me to simply move ahead as if the past was of no consequence.

Of course I want to help, myself and anyone else I can. If the question a moment ago had been what I would do for my freedom, I would have known the answer was _anything_. But that was before this particular request was thrown onto the playing field…

Master Jhou senses that his approach has failed, and with his subtle way of regrouping, he quiets his tone and tries another way. "Well then. If your own freedom means so little to you, I suppose I should explain this differently. Simply put, if you play your part in this plan, by the end of the night the Avatar will return."

Oh.

Oh gods.

I exhale sharply and the world goes fuzzy. Master Jhou's face swims in my vision, his calm expression utterly untroubled. My breathing is shallow, and I feel hot and cold at once; I press a hand to my chest. My lips come together, opening and closing as the air rushes into my mouth.

I've heard the Master, but it matters very little.

So impossible… so much impossibility…

Avatar… return… tonight…

"Aang."

My lips part, and my throat, sore from disuse, releases in a croaking whisper its first word in two years.

* * *

WD94: Oh Katara... so many bombshells dropped on her head all in one chapter...

I hope that everything made sense; if not, you are always free to leave me a message/review asking for clarification. Feel free to read and reread as necessary, as well.


	29. Chapter 29

WiltingDaisies94: Wow, so we had quite a bit of reactions towards the last chapter. I am glad you all liked Katara speaking (it was wonderful to actually use quotation marks for her), and yes, that's a phenomenon that will continue.

So no more previews, not even in my author's note. I'm just going to answer a few questions from last chapter, and then off you go.

**patty cake rocks:** Well, yes, in a technical sense Aang is alive. He's sort of trapped in a giant crystal at the moment, but they're working on that. As for who else is dead or alive... wait and see :)

**beastlySmallness:** Eye-bending is more subtle because there is very little visual motion. Regular bending involves specific hand motions, and as years of watching Avatar has shown me, bending is _not_ a subtle thing. Try it yourself if you like; move just your eyes, then move your hands, and see which is more noticeable.

**daveshan:** I'm sorry I haven't really gotten to your questions so much, and therefore a part of this chapter is dedicated to that cause. Also, part of what you need to remember is that the "deals" Zuko has crafted are wildly in the favor of the Fire Nation, and are forced on the other nations, regardless.

Thank you all for your reviews and questions, and please enjoy this next installment!

* * *

Chapter 29

The absolute vastness of the open courtyards in the Fire Lord's complex has my mouth hanging open in wonder. The contrast from my usual view – that of endlessly dark, mazelike corridors – is astounding, and the open air is a welcome relief. Lanterns are hanging from every available structure, and torches line the walkway into the courtyard. Somehow lights have been interwoven into the branches of trees and the leaves of low growing hedges, throwing merry shadows across the ground.

Everything is happening so quickly, and though I can't for the life of me explain why, a mysterious calm has entered my veins. All I've been informed of - Aang's survival, the determined rebellion, Master Jhou's involvement - has slipped quietly into the back of mind, allowing me an unnatural focus. Too much rests on my performance tonight for failure to be an option; I can break into tiny, psychotic pieces after I escape.

Fortunately there is much to distract me. Competing for my attention is the sheer number of people clustered into the space; there must be thousands of men and women in this courtyard alone. It is a tribute to the size of the Fire Nation, that even in this freakishly large complex I can scarcely find room to breathe. The revelers make up a small army (of course, all of Master Jhou's training has me thinking in military terms).

In fact, if I hadn't been there to see it myself, I'd be floored at the idea that these people could begin and support a war of such terrible magnitude. The festive atmosphere easily covers the vicious nature of the Fire Nation populace, the echoes of laughter effacing all evidence of treachery.

But these civilians are not my concern… not yet. Master Jhou's announcement is for them, that much he's explained, and whatever it is, the expectation is that the people, already drunk and excited, will devolve into some sort of organized anarchy. And their beloved Fire Lord is to be the target of all their collective excess and anger.

That's part of my bribe, I suppose.

I move quietly into the main hall where the dancing is taking place, where the music is thrumming. I touch my mask, fixing it one last time, irrationally paranoid that it will simply slip off my face. My hands fidget, fingers drifting down to my dress, where I smooth out a wrinkle, focusing myself around that nearly invisible ridge. Everything is perfect, in place, ready.

Even me.

I breathe once and step through the throng, my muscles tightened with anticipation. My most crucial challenge is also my first – I must find Zuko and relieve him of the mysterious vial. I have a fair description of what he's wearing, though by the look of things, a red robe doesn't make one terribly conspicuous. Hopefully a decorative golden dagger won't be quite as commonplace.

I walk past a cluster of women who are well on their way to inebriation, along with the gaggle of young men who seem to have initiated that process. "Oh no! Oh no!" one of the girls is protesting, her mask slipping down her face as she holds her sides, shaking with laughter. Her friends move closer to her, lost in their merriment, and the young men advance.

I hurry by; in my peripheral vision I catch one of the boys eyeing me appreciatively.

Toad.

I examine a man in red who is munching happily on some vegetable dish, but his half mask reveals pouty lips that could never belong to the Fire Lord. I move on. Another wine-red robed man is chatting with a boy about half his age… who on closer inspection bears the same insignia on his back… a father and son duo. Definitely not.

I push through a thick crowd of middle-aged women with a few well-aged specimens mixed in. "I wish my nephew would hurry along and find himself a bride," one of them is grousing, her pudgy arms crossed petulantly over her chest. "He has the common sense of a fish, and about as much backbone –"

Fire Nation matchmaking, I think, shaking my head. Charming.

More men in red, a whole group of them, are seated around an enormous table, arguing as Fire Nation men are prone to. I cross them off one after another: too tall, too fat, eyes too far apart. There's one who might fit, though, and I inch closer to the table to listen in on the conversation.

"If you ask me, I would say that the Fire Lord was radically lenient in his treaty with the Earth Kingdom," the fat one is proclaiming, in a manner that suggests his opinion is absolutely above reproach or disagreement. "Our Lord refused to keep even a part of Ba Sing Se for himself; he never touched Omashu, despite its wealth of resources; he even left Kyoshi Island and those little lady warriors intact. The Earth Kingdom has every reason to be thankful to the Fire Lord."

Politics. Excellent.

Frighteningly enough, there are murmurs of agreement, general whispers of consent from around the table. The fat man sits back contentedly, resting his hands on the tabletop, as if he has single-handedly resolved the matter.

"Not so hasty, my friend," the one who looks like Zuko objects, and though his voice is too low for him to actually be the Fire Lord, I listen anyway. "You are floating along the surface of the matter, and very willingly, I suspect." He smiles thinly, coolly. "You are too clever to make such claims any other way." He says 'clever' as if it were the least likely description of the other man he can possibly think of.

The fat man grunts in barely concealed contempt and leans forward. "Please, enlighten us with your views, then," he replies in sickeningly sweet tones, his extra chins quivering in irritation.

"With pleasure." The other rests on his elbows, and the table buzz goes oddly silent. "Firstly, it is common knowledge that the current Earth King is a deferential puppet ruler, chosen and put in place by the Fire Lord, to serve his commands. Our Fire Lord has a good head for policy; rather than forcing himself on the Earth Kingdom as a conquering foreigner, he rules vicariously through a living marionette. By doing this, he very, _very _successfully," the man stresses, smirking at the disgruntled fat one, "appeared as a sympathetic, merciful individual, rather than the manipulative politician he is."

Guilt is tugging at my gut; I know I have a time limit on how long I can take to complete my task. But it's gratifying to hear someone else speak of the Fire Lord as he really is, and my vengeful side is roaring its agreement in my head. I turn my face away and spot a man in red; his hair is too long for him to be Zuko. I turn back.

"And it would be simply bad form to neglect the addition of the Jae Min to the Earth Kingdom's daily routine," the man continues, his monologue attended with a surprising silence. "More powerful than even the Dai Li were at their greatest moment, and infinitely more deadly. The Jae Min carry out the more unsavory orders of the Fire Lord; they maintain tight control over the rights of Earth Kingdom civilians; they have black lists of known earthbenders, just in case any should take it into their heads to stir up trouble."

So I was right – the Jae Min is a secret army, ready to do Zuko's bidding. I suppose the Fire Lord did take a lesson from the Dai Li after all… the thought leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.

"And the kindness Our Gracious Fire Lord displayed by helping rebuild the Earth Kingdom?" The man chuckles airily. "All show. The Jae Min oversaw the project, consulted all the architects, and received copies of every layout and every floorplan for every building in the nation. There isn't a single structure in the rebuilt Earth Kingdom cities that the Fire Lord doesn't know the intimate details of – exits, entrances, number of rooms, inhabitants… flammability."

"If it weren't for that smile, Asu, I might think you were against the Fire Lord's measures." A stocky man with sharp teeth and a thin nose, sitting farther down the table, speaks up. "Surely you cannot disagree with Fire Lord Zuko's treatment of those foolish Earth and Water rebels?"

The one who is apparently Asu shakes his head. "Oh you mistake me, Maka. I have much respect for the Fire Lord's political tactics, especially in one so young. I merely believe that, as we are among understanding company, there is no need to mask the truth." He raises an eyebrow. "And the truth is that Fire Lord Zuko's punishment of the Southern Water Tribe has devastated, perhaps permanently, not one, but two nations."

My heart gives a sturdy thump, and I move away from the table and the conversation. Zuko wasted no time informing me of his plans for my home; his isolation of the Southern Tribes has effectively stunted all of its economic possibilities. We in the Southern Tribes have always depended heavily on our trading – living in such a remote location, certain essential resources are limited, and can only be acquired from the other nations.

The Fire Lord put a permanent stop to that, denying aid to the Southern Water Tribes and forcing the other nations into an Isolationist Embargo. For months he tormented me with news of the misfortunes occurring in my homeland. The steady supply of metal, oil, and wood having been cut off led to a greater susceptibility to disease, an inability to construct or repair necessary items… and the War took the lives of so many of the tribe's protectors, that there was little enough strength left in my people to begin with. And it's been many more months since the Fire Lord ceased taunting me with the oncoming destruction of my home – I can hardly imagine what life at the Southern pole must be like now.

The crowds around me begin to thin. I've walked the length of the room, and am fast approaching several ornate tables laden with food. My eyes rove the area, and I push my way through a pool of boys who look about thirteen, and are certainly eating like it. How they can fit so much into their mouths and still manage to talk is beyond me.

"Revolting, isn't it? Commoners standards for manners fall more drastically each year." The voice behind me is smooth as silk, and I can feel the smile playing on the speaker's lips.

I turn around, sizing the voice's owner up in a glance: male, tall, young, warrior build, dark hair, likely a noble, probably a firebender, possibly a threat. Half mask, golden belt, dark maroon robes – not Zuko.

"Perhaps we may find a drink to settle my Lady's stomach after that unpleasant sight." Confident smile holding steadfast to its place, he offers me a polite hand. "Is that agreeable to you?"

He wants a response. I open my mouth and choke on the words that once came so easily. I try to recover myself – unlike mine, Master Jhou's voice, even when disembodied, never fails in its strength, and is grinding away in my memory. _Never show a firebender weakness; always seize an opportunity when presented with one_.

I cover my mouth and nose with one hand, a ladylike gesture, pretending that I am too offended by the sight and smell of the little boys to answer. My free hand takes the young man's outstretched hand and I nod my head amiably – opportunity taken. Maybe he can lead me to the Fire Lord.

He moves me away, towards the setup of refreshments. "Here we are," the young man proclaims, releasing my hand to fill a crystal goblet for me. "Now that we are in a more pleasant location, perhaps I may have a name from you, my Lady." He passes over my drink. "Although etiquette does demand that I introduce myself first. My name is Eraan." He begins to pour his own goblet. "And who might you be?"

I sip my wine for a moment, letting the liquid open my throat for my voice. I pick the first noble name I can think of, one Zuko has tossed off a few times in passing. "Min Ra," I supply, the words feeling heavy on my out-of-practice tongue.

"Min Ra," Eraan repeats, the name sliding seamlessly through the air. "Tell me, Lady Min Ra, is it possible that a beautiful young lady like you is attending the Dance of Streets alone?"

"Perhaps," I reply vaguely. "And you?"

"Of course." Eraan smiles and takes a long drink of wine. "One who comes to the Festival unescorted is almost certain to leave in a different condition. I prefer to be… unencumbered… in my choice of socializing."

Definitely a noble. I'm pondering how precisely to use this to my advantage when Eraan suddenly interrupts. "Would you care for a dance, Min Ra?" he asks, placing his empty goblet on the table.

That will do just fine. "Oh, I should like to," I answer, moving my mouth into something that resembles an apologetic smile. "But I am afraid I must decline. You see, although I did arrive alone, I am here with a special invitation from Fire Lord Zuko, and I imagine it would be unwise to keep him waiting." I watch Eraan's expression as it shifts subtly. "Might you know where I could find him?"

He doesn't like it, but Eraan merely smiles and offers me his arm. "As my Lady wishes," he says, the disappointed look in his eyes reforming itself into resignation. "I thought that you were exceptional when I first saw you… the Fire Lord has a remarkably good eye."

He means it as a compliment, but the sentiment makes me squirm inside. "I am sorry," I lie, replacing my goblet and allowing Eraan to lead me through the crowds. "Though it was not destined to be me, I am sure you will have no trouble finding a companion to… socialize… with."

Eraan laughs. "Indeed. Perhaps it is enough to know that my tastes run in similar circles with those of the Fire Lord's."

I consider Mai for a moment, her relationship with the Fire Lord, and then chuckle along with Eraan. Women are one of the last things I would credit Zuko for having excellent taste in.

We walk in unison, and if the people in our way don't precisely part, they seem to make an effort to get out of the way. For all the Dance of Streets is supposed to be an equalizing event, some will always appear as they truly are. Superiority hides behind no mask – it would not deign to.

"Eraan? Eraan! Is that you, darling?"

I know that voice, and every muscle tenses as Eraan lifts a hand to wave. Ty Lee, corset et al, sashays her way over to us, her many layers of skirt scattering in a flurry of motion.

Shit.

And this, Katara, I chide myself, is why we don't deviate from the already precarious plan.

"Mistress Ty Lee." Eraan bows politely, a charming smile playing over his features. "A pleasure as always."

Ty Lee smiles back, but there is a concealed scrutiny in her eyes. "Clearly not such a pleasure," she replies, "if you could find more amusing company." Ty Lee scorns me in that delicate, noble way. "I don't know that I recognize your lovely escort, Eraan. Be a dove, introduce us."

"Of course, how rude of me." Eraan throws me an apologetic look, though whether for the interruption or his lapse of etiquette is unclear. "Lady Min Ra, this is Mistress Ty Lee."

The acrobat's eyes widen and she gives a hasty bow. "Well, what an unexpected surprise! I didn't know that Lord Mari was sending any of his daughters to the Midsummer Festival this year."

Thankfully, in the manor of Fire Nation men, Eraan assumes that the interjection is for him to answer. "Lady Min Ra is here by special request of the Fire Lord. In fact, you have caught us in the midst of seeking him out. Do you know where the Fire Lord is hiding himself?"

Ty Lee's expression is pensive; I could practically see her ears perk at the words "special request". If she can sense that something is wrong… if she's spoken to Zuko on the subject… if Lady Min Ra actually came herself… no, no. I push the negative thoughts away. This will work. It has to.

"Of course," Ty Lee is saying, and I return my attention to her smiling lips. "I was just speaking with him a moment ago."

Before Eraan can say anything, I interrupt. "Then perhaps you may point me in the proper direction, and in return I will take my leave and allow Eraan to take part in your wonderful company." I take care to keep my voice low and sweet, an extra precaution.

Ty Lee chuckles at my suggestion. "Well now, how could I refuse an offer like that?" She points diagonally across the room, but her gaze is on me. "The Fire Lord is just that way, in the middle of some terribly boring discussion with one of his military advisers – the gentleman in violet." She smiles knowingly at Eraan. "And I must say, I wish you much luck in acquiring his attention."

Subtly removing my arm from Eraan's, I bow respectfully to him and then Ty Lee, my breathing steadying at the thought of getting away. "It was my honor to meet you, Master Eraan, Mistress Ty Lee," I say demurely, playing the polite noblewoman, "and thank you for your most gracious assistance."

Ty Lee laughs and takes Eraan's arm, thrilled to take her handsome prize; Eraan, on the other hand, looks rather put out at being taken away. "Always a pleasure, dear," Ty Lee tells me, clearly enjoying my deferential manner. "Do send my best along to your father, would you?"

I nod pleasantly. "Certainly."

Ty Lee smiles at me, looking quite pacified. "Have a good evening, Lady Min Ra," she flutters, and moves off with Eraan in tow.

I turn away, holding in a breath of relief, an irrational vision of Ty Lee suddenly springing at me, screaming, "Get the waterbender!" flickering behind my eyes. But no such event occurs, and Ty Lee and Eraan keep walking away. I believe I've successfully navigated the potentially disastrous situation; I breathe out. I've almost convinced myself that I'm in the clear.

But just as I'm almost out of earshot I hear Ty Lee commenting in a worrisome tone, "It's a bit unusual, you know. I don't recall the Fire Lord extending any special invitations this year."

Damn it.

Ty Lee is going to investigate, as soon as she's done with Eraan; I can feel it in my bones, and the urge to hurry is suddenly tripled. I move in the direction indicated by Ty Lee, and spy the man in violet. He's stout and broad and angry looking, and speaking rapidly with another man in a red robe.

I maneuver so that I'm against the wall, behind the man in red, slightly off to his left. Craning my neck, I see the golden dagger hanging at his waist and catch the glint of a golden mask that's hardly different from my own.

Zuko.

* * *

WD94: I don't know about you guys, but I've been on my toes the whole time while writing this chapter, and I even know what's going to happen!

I love Ty Lee. I know I've said it a hundred times, but I do. I think she's much smarter than she gets credit for being, and I love her, good or evil. And Katara is talking! It's practically anarchy!

As always, leave me thoughts! :)


	30. Chapter 30

WiltingDaisies94: Hello everyone, and welcome to another installment of TPTC! I realize it is nearly November now, and I have been much busier than usual of late, so I apologize more profusely than usual for taking a long time to update. You are all fantastic for sticking with me, and I hope the longer chapters are some consolation.

Now, as this is the 30th chapter of TPTC (may I just say, wow), and furthermore because it is a multiple of 5 (yay arbitrary decision making!) it is time for another dedication. So, many, many thanks to you, **QueenyLeACH **for your awesome reviews and longtime readership. This chapter goes to you: you always root for Katara, even against the apparent odds, and this chapter is all about her, so I thought it might suit you.

Please enjoy, everyone!

* * *

Chapter 30

I close my eyes and focus my energies, taking deep, soundless breaths through my nose. My mind reaches through the humid midsummer air, feeling its way through the moisture clinging to everything. Like an earthbender seeking through vibrations, I search the area around Zuko, following the patterns of water in the air, testing their density.

There it is. In the folds of Zuko's robes, I can sense the little glass vial, cuddled safely away in the waves of fabric on Zuko's left side. I test the vial carefully, surrounding it with tiny droplets of moisture... it's hardly larger than my middle finger. Despite that, I will have to work delicately; Zuko's robes include so many layers of cloth that the slightest jerky movement might alert him to the generally inanimate object in his pocket that's suddenly begun to move.

Licking my lips, which are dry from anticipation, I open my eyes, and with the terrified calm of a do-or-die situation pulsing through my veins, I focus my vision on the proper fold in Zuko's robe. My waterbending abilities pull at the microscopic moisture in the air, delicately weaving together the individual droplets; it's as if I can see through the cloth, a skeletal outline of what is hidden there. My eyes twist careful figure eights, looping together strings of water, forming a base just beneath the vial.

The familiar itching sensation sets in, the need to blink nagging at my eyelids. I fight the impulse, keeping my eyes open, pulling the four corners of my water base up around the neck of the vial. Slowly I lift my head and eyes; the water follows obediently, sliding up the glass sides.

But just as I begin to pull back, feeling the weight of the vial cradled on my makeshift net, Zuko steps forward. His movement startles me, and I very nearly send the vial shooting up into his side. Thankfully my training with Master Jhou has taught me to handle surprises, and my hands fly up instinctively, forcing my head to stay in place, steadying my gaze.

However, as I struggle to gather my bearings, keep my vision fixed, and remove my hands from my cheeks, Zuko starts to walk away. He's finished talking with the angry man in violet, and has picked up a girl in the meantime.

The two are heading outside into the garden space, and the vial is still in Zuko's robe.

_Shit._

With urgency and the beginnings of desperation dancing a tango inside of me, I dissolve my water net into the air, and blink my eyes furiously, wiping the excess water away from underneath my eyes. I will accomplish my task, I reassure myself, and plunge into the crowds, following after Zuko's disappearing back.

The light of the open hall dims behind me as I move into the outside space. The warm summer air kisses my cheeks in welcome, but I have no time to enjoy its open embrace. I slink after Zuko and the girl, evaluating my surroundings: the scattered open-air lanterns, the glittering lights strung through the shrubbery, the significantly smaller number of people in the vicinity.

And in my heightened state of awareness, my ears pick up on the sound of running water, a beautiful friend come to lend a hand. There are two fountains, to my right and left, each gushing a cycling flood of water, cool, flowing water.

I can't help myself – I freeze in place, a dark instinct rising up in my mind. Couldn't I simply take out Zuko now? It would be easy enough, if I could get the timing right… the bubbling fountain would be such a simple place to finish him, to finally set myself free…

But the treacherous thought is drowned out by two voices inside me. The first advocates for the loyalty I owe to Master Jhou. If I deviate from his plan, the larger scheme of which has yet to be explained to me, what sort of irreparable harm I might cause? Aang is alive, and I must be a part of returning the Avatar to the world – I refuse to live with the guilt of knowing I stopped that with my impatience.

The second voice is harder to explain… I try to attribute it to some latent sympathy, but cannot figure from where that would have welled up. Zuko deserves defeat, I deserve freedom… all the logic is clearly defined in my head, but the strange discomfort wriggles inside me nonetheless.

"No!" A female voice protests behind me, choked with giggles. "Come now, I cannot! Leave be!"

"Oh I think not," a deeper voice replies, sounding downright lecherous and full of intent. "You are mine for tonight, and that is precious little time."

_Time._ I nod to myself and move around behind the far left fountain that Zuko and the girl are standing close beside. Her hand is resting on his arm as she speaks animatedly, and I see his head inclined towards her face. That's fine, but I need a solid distraction, something that will really capture Zuko's attention.

I glance around the garden – I have an idea, but I need help… ah! A little boy is playing with a string of lights; he'll do just fine. I glance over at Zuko, to make sure he's not moving away anytime soon, then walk over to the boy.

"Hello," I whisper to him.

The boy turns to look at me, suspicion and fear glinting in his eyes, the light string still caught in his hand.

I consider what might appeal to the boy, remembering children I used to play back home. "It's awfully hot out here, isn't it?" I ask, trying a quick establishment of empathy.

The boy nods once, stiffly.

This will be harder than I need it to be, but I have no faster option. "I'm Min Ra," I say, offering my hand. "And you are?"

"Bo Rin," he answers, ignoring my hand.

I retract the offending limb. "Are you here alone, Bo Rin?"

"No. My mother brought me." The boy fiddles with the light string, casting odd shadows across the ground.

"And she left you here?" I prod. "Out in this blistering heat?"

Bo Rin shrugs in the flippant manner of young children, but I can see the irritation on his small, round face.

"You know," I supply casually, "that fountain there is filled with nice cool water. I'm sure no one would mind if you took a little dip."

That does it. He looks at me, hopeful. "Really?"

"Of course," I reassure. "See all that beautiful, flowing water? It will wash right over your hands and feet, and you will feel so much better. Besides, look around… no one is watching." I smile encouragingly. "Go ahead."

He's torn at the sound of authority contradicting itself. I'm sure his entire life he has been told "not", "don't", "shouldn't", and here I am, reversing all that. If he were much older, my ploy would never stand a chance.

But fortunately he's not, and I can see the seed has successfully been planted in his head. "It's so dreadfully hot," I continue soothingly, "and the Dance is a long night. Your mother may not be back for hours. A little trip through the fountain won't do any harm; you deserve it." I smile. "It will be our secret, yes?"

Bo Rin mumbles something indistinct, but his head bobs once, and without looking up at me again he scurries off. I watch as he approaches the fountain, with all the unsubtle hesitation of a child trying not to get caught. His head jerks from side to side; I'm sure he's imagining his mother popping out from behind every shrub.

"Come on," I whisper, willing him into the water. "Hurry!"

As if he can hear me, Bo Rin slips his hands onto the side of the fountain, and pulls his right foot over the lip. His fears assuage as the cool water slides over his leg, first his right, then his left, and the simple pleasure of comfort wins out. Bo Rin's hands reach for the water, and he chases it forward, moving closer to the front, where Zuko is standing with the girl.

Perfect. I focus again, readying myself for the moment, moving around the left of the fountain. Bo Rin gets closer and closer; I steady my eyes on Zuko's robe; my hands move downwards, preparing to push up. Three…. Two…

Now!

My hands push upwards, bending the water under Borin's feet, pulling the undercurrent out from beneath him and pushing the upper layer forward. With a startled cry, the boy tumbles into the water, knocked over by my bending. His fall causes a splash, and I add to that splash, making it larger and moving it farther – the whole mess comes down on Zuko and his companion, drenching them both.

"Aah!"

The girl screams in indignation, and in the instant where Zuko is blinded by the water, my eye-bending latches onto the vial in his pocket. His entire robe is drenched with water, and my eyes have it all to pull on. My feet shift me to a position about twenty feet diagonally behind Zuko, and I hold my eyes in place, surrounding the vial in a coat of water.

"You little brat!" Zuko turns around to yell at poor Borin, who is still trying to work out how he tripped in the first place. "What the hell do you think you're doing, prancing through a fountain like a fool? Get out, NOW!"

His back is to me, and I take the plunge, wriggling the vial out of his robe fold. It comes into view cork first, and my eyes pull it forward, across the air. As naturally as a thrown boomerang, the vial sails through the open air, almost gracefully. For a few seconds my heart pounds thick in my chest, and then I feel the cool, wet glass in my hand.

I run.

The logical part of my brain knows that dashing away as if all the Fire Lords to ever rule the nation were chasing at my heel is not the stealthiest move I could make. But the rest of me can't wait around – it's in my hand, my goal, and I have to pass it along. I don't know how much time I have left, and as I tear back towards the main hall, I glance over my shoulder.

Zuko, now significantly smaller from this distance, is still bent over the fountain, presumably giving Bo Rin the tongue-lashing of a lifetime. Unfortunately, my body still moving in the opposite direction as I watch, and I trip fantastically over my own feet.

"Ahh!"

I hit the ground and the vial goes flying out of my hand. It skids along the rough earth, spinning violently from the momentum, approaching a marble column outside the main hall with alarming speed.

"No!"

I flip myself onto my side and throw out a hand, grasping for water hanging in the air. It forms a whip around my wrist and I lash out, snatching the vial up, absorbing it into the flow of my water. It stops moving instantly, floating harmlessly under my control.

I retract my whip and clasp the vial to my chest in relief, irrationally wishing hoping that it can feel the terrified beating of my heart. With dread gathering in my stomach as I realize how rash and dangerous my waterbending in public was, I pick myself up off the ground. My hands are covered in dirt, which I brush away as best I can before turning around, hoping that no one has seen.

And I suppose no one has. The music from the inner hall is still floating contentedly out into the garden space; the drunken and euphoric laughter hasn't stopped either. Couples hiding in the bushes and children running through the rows of trees haven't bothered to glance my way. Between the bubbling fountains and the summer night wind and all the busy fluttering of the night, my secret is still safe.

I straighten out my dress, hiding the majority of the vial in my long sleeve, and walk back into the main hall. I breathe deeply and slowly, and tap the vial unconsciously against my thigh, looking for a man in white. White with a green sash – how much time has it been anyway?

" – I tell you, love, it was breathtaking – "

"Ha! You never win betting on the layman's pick!"

" – and they simply disappeared together. Just like that, one day they were there, the next they were gone!"

The background chatter has a surprisingly calming effect, as it's a reminder that I'm one among thousands of people, and that Zuko has an infinitesimally small chance of finding me. Of course, conversely, that means I have the same chance of finding the man in white… and suddenly the comfort is gone.

I peer through my mask, scrutinizing the crowd as I move, edging around the open dancing space. There is so much red swirling through the crowds that someone in mostly white should stand out, especially someone wearing a splash of green. I fidget with the vial in my sleeve, moving it upwards.

For the first time I wonder why he would be wearing green. Almost anything but red or purple would suffice to make him stand out. Maybe not blue, for obvious reasons of racism, but yellow or black or brown or orange. To the best of my knowledge green is worn almost exclusively by citizens of the Earth Kingdom…

Would Master Jhou have another earthbender in on this? Obviously he's an earthbending master himself, so it's imminently possible that he has contacts in the Earth Kingdom. It never occurred to me that there was more happening here than my escape, until Master Jhou revealed the relevant-yet-somehow-forgettable detail of Aang's survival to me. Now the two plans are intertwined, and I have hardly paused to consider that there might yet be more than that.

"Does My Lady dance the reverse?"

I'm so engrossed in my own thoughts that I nearly jump out of my skin when the low voice sounds behind me.

I turn around, pushing my heart back down out of my throat and into my chest where it belongs. "So long as I m-may be returned," I stammer, my voice coming out as a pathetic whisper.

He raises a thick eyebrow at me and says nothing.

"So long as I may be returned," I repeat, clearing my throat and forcing my words to strengthen.

He does nothing but scrutinize me, and for a moment I wonder if I'm talking to the right man. He's dressed all in white, and although "sash" might not be the way I would describe the fabric across his outer robe, the color is right. I don't recognize him (as I had assumed I wouldn't), and he towers over me, tall and silent as a mountain. But how can it not be him? Asking me to dance the reverse is such antiquated language, there's no way someone as young looking as him would come across the phrasing naturally.

In the meantime, while I've been stressing outrageously inside my head, the man has stretched out his hand to me.

I smile, relieved, and move to put the vial into it, but he stops my hand, taking the free one instead. Without a word he leads me towards the dance space, and once we're successfully on the outskirts, he puts his other hand around my waist.

Surprise and panic press in on me – I hadn't thought dancing was actually part of the plan! Wasn't he was supposed to just take the vial and then go? I haven't danced formally in… well… years, quite literally.

But before I can voice a protest (or think better of voicing a protest), the man's grip has tightened and my feet are moving of their own accord. The walls of people swirl together in my vision, and I focus on my partner's face. His hand is keeping my sleeve pinned up, forcing the vial to stay in place, and he leads easily. He really is as sturdy as a mountain, which helps make up for my obvious lack of practice.

There are questions I'm dying to ask, but not a single one is fit for the situation. So I settle on, "Might I have your name?"

The man looks down at me, impassive as stone; he's very clearly not the talkative type, and I doubt that he will even deign to respond.

I'm right. He simply continues to move me forward across the floor, revolving steady circles. He's a man with a mission to complete, and his will is resolved to that above all else.

I clam up. It's a sufficiently awkward situation, which is the last thing on earth it needs to look like. So I just move my body a little closer to his and fix my arm on his, giving the dance what I think is a more casual appearance.

So we dance. The music lilts and moves, lightly resetting our pace from time to time; it's as possible that we've been dancing for three minutes as three lifetimes.

And just as I'm beginning to relax and regain my command of the movements, the man spins brings me around, bringing me to the edge of the dancing space, and casually leads me off the floor. from behind his left hand grasps the side of my waist, and his right takes my hand, pushing my wrist downwards, so the vial slides smoothly out of my sleeve and into his hand.

He faces me then, removing his hands from any contact with me, and bows, deftly placing the vial into some hidden fold of his clothing. Then he straightens up, looks me in the eye, and says, "Orii."

He disappears into the crowd before I can say anything in return.

I watch him go.

I breathe again for what feels like the first time since Master Jhou began training me.

He has the vial, and my part of this is complete. All my responsibility, what I must do, is done. And wherever tonight runs to from here is up to the Master and his plan, regardless of what I do. I will have my freedom, I will have my friend, and I will have my revenge.

In spite of everything, I smile. He can hide under any mask he likes.

The Fire Lord is mine now.

* * *

WD94: Okay, so major points to you if you thought/figured out that it was Orii sent to get the vial from Katara. As I've said, I don't just throw OCs in for the fun of it (although doing so is a lot of fun).

Quick note: I don't know that the Ursa part of all this is relevant enough to enter the storyline... so that may not happen simply because I don't have a place to put it. However, there are two more characters who will be accounted for in this story, so there is still more revealing to come.

And speaking of, heads up for the next chapter - the end will have quite a twist! I will do my best to get it written quickly, because I am actually abnormally excited for your responses.

Much love and a very happy early All Hallow's Eve!


End file.
